


In The Trenches, We Find Our Friends

by Wishfulthinking1979



Series: Empire Reimagined [2]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, First Meetings, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, In this verse Veers and Piett live, army vs navy, rebel splinter group
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23700775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/pseuds/Wishfulthinking1979
Summary: This is in the same AU as my previous work He Who Sheds His Blood With Me. Thank you for indulging my look into these Imperial officers, and the very human side of Death Squadron.A year after the Battle of Yavin, while Darth Vader searches for the mysterious Force wielding pilot, an army colonel meets a recent navy transfer aboard the Executor. Ozzel runs a ship that encourages army/navy animosity and makes life hard for anyone he doesn't like. But both Veers and Darth Vader have other ideas.....
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Maximilian Veers
Series: Empire Reimagined [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747222
Comments: 115
Kudos: 234





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think that if I didn't need to sleep, I'd be writing all the time at the moment. Thank you muse. :) I've so been enjoying this aspect of Piett and Veers getting to know each other.This story will therefore focus a great deal on these two and how their friendship grows, but yes, I can't avoid action and they need that too after all.  
> And Vader insisted that he have his own subplot and I certainly am not going to say no to HIM. A few OCs sprinkled in, stir carefully, and we'll hope for the best!

“Colonel Veers, a moment of your time,” Ozzel’s stuffy upper class accent carried a tone that had Veers wanting to chew metal, but he paused on his way off the bridge to face the Admiral.

“Sir?” 

“I’m given to understand that your... _ vehicles _ have been in the way of the deck crew in Bay 22. Do something about that would you? We are not your personal transport ship. We are the Imperial navy, Colonel and do not need that sort of clutter.”

Veers stared at him for a moment-- hard grey eyes glinting with rage-- and Ozzel smiled thinly. 

“That’s all, Colonel.” 

Veers saluted, not trusting himself to say anything in reply and made his way off the bridge. He nearly ran into a slight officer who was hurrying the opposite way.

“Excuse me sir, apologies," came polite, precise tones and briefly, haunted hazel eyes met his and then the man carried on while Veers did his best not to look like he was storming off the bridge.  _ Which. He was…..but one could but strive to have some dignity.  _

Veers had been recommended to serve on the Executor, the flagship of Darth Vader’s Death Squadron, roughly a year before. While indeed an honor, it came with its risks---Vader was a demanding leader and failure was not to be tolerated. Already, one admiral had met his fate, which had placed Kendal Ozzel in that honored (and dangerous) position. Ozzel was a Core man by birth and had all the money, education and class snobbery which that entailed. It had also made the Executor far more difficult to serve upon. Vader was harsh with failure, but one was clear on the objective and he led from the front. 

Ozzel was everything wrong within the Imperial navy. He took credit for things his junior officers did, he passed the blame which rightfully belonged to him, and only sought to take actions that would further his career. Veers was grateful not to be a navy man-- he would have shot Ozzel and damn the consequences. 

Regardless, he had to put up with Ozzel’s presence since, of course, they did convey him and his fellow infantrymen to whatever action Lord Vader decided to take. 

Veers reached Bay 22 and walked into a battle zone. Several navy crewmen and a number of his  _ dirt pounders _ were going at it in the middle of the bay. Shocked techs and engineers were gaping from the sidelines, but no one seemed willing to interfere and the bay chief was actually smirking as he watched with folded arms from the side. 

“As you were!!!” Veers roared, striding into the bay and right into the middle of the action. Some of the men desisted immediately, but Veers was required to use his own combat training to throw some of the more stubborn combatants to the floor before things settled. 

He looked around and signalled to some of the Stormtroopers on the edges to come over.

“You, watch these men. When we’re done here, you will escort all of them to the brig. Now,” he turned to the fifteen men involved in the scuffle---9 navy and 6 of his troops--he realized. “What is the meaning of you all rolling around like a bunch of drunk Wookies, rather than having the dignity of Imperial officers?” 

Silence. His men were glaring hard at the naval officers, one of whom curled his lip in disdain. 

“You!” Veers pointed at the lieutenant. “What happened here?” 

“Well,  _ sir _ , we were trying to encourage your men to pick up their  _ trash _ in the bay and they decided that they weren’t interested in following orders.”

Veers stifled his anger at the insulting tone and looked instead to the furious face of one of his sergeants. 

“Your perspective, Sergeant Havell?”

“Sir, we were trying to secure the walkers as ordered sir and we were being  _ prevented _ from doing so, sir.” 

“Is that so?”

“Yes sir, and then some….words...were exchanged about the nature of the army and its usefulness sir and the lieutenant over there threw a punch.”

“You Mid-Rim scum, how  _ dare  _ you….?”

“I think we can dispense with superfluous personal insults,” interjected a new voice, mildly, and Veers turned to see the short navy Captain he had nearly run over on the bridge. He was holding a data pad in his hand and staring in cool disapproval at the group before him. 

“Captain, these  _ ground pounders _ have no right…!”

“Enough!” the Captain snapped. “As it happens I’m holding the security recording of what happened right here in my hands. Admiral Ozzel sent me to deal with this. Deck chief!!”

The man ambled over and saluted. “Sir?”

“Why did you allow this disgraceful encounter to take place?”

“I didn’t realize it was _ disgraceful _ Captain---I just saw some army being put in their place.”

“Did you, now? You’re relieved pending an investigation into whether you get to stay in the Imperial Navy or not. Trooper escort the chief to his quarters.” 

Veers found himself somewhat reluctantly impressed by the calm way the man was taking command. 

“And who do you think you are----some Axxilan upstart…” 

“I wouldn’t finish that chief, things are very bad for you already. Take him out of here.” The trooper escorted the chief out. 

“Sir,” the Captain turned to Veers and handed him the data pad, “If you’d like to review what occurred, I’d appreciate it.” 

As Veers tapped the pad, the Captain turned back to the waiting group. “I saw members of his majesty’s Imperial Navy interfere with the army trying to follow their orders. There was no provocation from these soldiers except for, apparently, being in this hangar. We work  _ together _ gentlemen and this behavior was appalling. You are all under arrest for misconduct and I will be personally putting a reprimand in all of your files. Colonel Veers may do as he sees fit with his men.” 

Veers lifted an eyebrow at the man. He’d clearly done his homework. “Oh I concur, Captain. My men will be joining yours in brig. I don’t care the provocation--soldiers should know better than to behave as though they’re in a cantina brawl.” 

“Troopers, if you would,” the Captain waved a hand and the men were escorted out, the navy men shooting the slight Captain filthy looks and muttering under their breath.

He turned to Veers. “My apologies, sir, for the conduct of the naval officers. It was deeply unbecoming.”   
  


“You’re new,” Veers remarked, studying him with interest. Slight, compact build, short cropped brown hair, keen hazel eyes, and an underlying air of exhaustion that he was doing a terrific job of suppressing. 

“Yes, sir, relatively. I came on board about 3 months back. Captain Firmus Piett,” he held out his hand and Veers took it slowly. 

“You haven’t yet realized that Ozzel….encourages this sort of thing then I take it, Captain?”

“Oh I’ve realized, sir. I volunteered to come down and deal with this.”

Veers handed back his data pad and took this in. “Well that makes you somewhat unique then. Most of Ozzel’s command crew understand how things…work when it comes to disputes between the navy and the army on board this ship.”

“Indeed sir,” the Captain met his gaze steadily. “But we are all in the Imperial military and this is ultimately Lord Vader’s command is it not?” 

“Very true,” Veers replied with a slight smile. “Well, thank you for your assistance, Captain Piett---it was much appreciated. I need to get to work securing these walkers.”

“Thank you Colonel.” Piett saluted and Veers watched him go consideringly. There might be a small spot of hope for the navy after all. 

  
  


****

Piett sagged against the wall of the turbolift and ran a hand over his face. Upon returning from the situation in the hangar bay, Ozzel had promptly informed him that he was pulling another double shift. The Admiral seemed to delight in tormenting him and Piett was still no closer to understanding what he had done to incur the man’s ire. It could be as simple as Core snobbery due to his Axxilan origins, but Piett still struggled to believe that people could actually be that shallow. He had only been on board for three months for kriff’s sake!

The doors hissed open and he stepped out into the corridor. Ozzel had sent him off with data pads for one of the tech maintenance crews---a menial task, and the sort of thing Ozzel delighted to give him  _ if you don’t mind Captain… _

Given the remote nature of this particular wing---it wasn’t even part of the command tower at all, but further up in the Lady’s arrow shaped structure---a droid would have been the sensible way of delivering these, but Ozzel was aware this would add at least another hour to his time before he could return to his quarters and collapse. 

Piett sighed and straightened his jacket before striding down the military grey corridor. He couldn’t say what it was that first triggered his instincts, but  _ something _ wasn’t right a moment before a large arm hooked itself around his neck and yanked him off of his feet---data pads clattering down the corridor. 

His hands shot up to grapple with the arm as a meaty palm slapped itself over his mouth and he was  _ dragged _ further down a clearly deserted corridor, struggling madly, his boot heels getting no purchase on the polished durasteel floor. He was vaguely aware of other forms around him before they were tumbling into a room and the door was kicked shut behind them and Piett was thrown to the floor. He rolled to get back to his feet and promptly received a kick to his kidney, sending him back down. 

“Hello, Captain,” said a voice he vaguely recognized. “We’ve been given  _ orders _ to remind you that the navy is your primary loyalty.”

He squinted up in the dim lighting to see the nasty face of the lieutenant he  _ thought  _ he’d sent to the brig earlier in the day.  _ Son of a Hutt. This was going to be terrible. _

“I can assure you Captain, we’re all going to enjoy this.”

Piett tensed, looking for a way through this. There were six of them, all of them from the group of men he had sent to the brig. He had grown up learning to fight from an early age in the rough streets on Axxila, but his size was against him with this many opponents. 

Still. His mother didn’t raise a quitter. As they closed in on him, he jerked himself up so that the top of his head cracked into the lieutenant’s jaw, and the man gave a satisfying scream of pain before they were all on him. 

After that it was breathless and painful confusion. He was reasonably sure he’d got in some good hits of his own--he fought as  _ dirty _ as he possibly could--but his odds were never terrific and soon, he was having a hard time breathing and seeing out of a huge black eye and cracked cheek bone. He slumped to the floor, trying to remember how to breathe and then a shocking lance of pain exploded in his outstretched right hand as a boot heel stomped into it. He cried out at that, vaguely realizing that numerous bones had given way.

“Hope you got the message,  _ Captain _ ,” a voice hissed and then, as suddenly as it had started, he was left alone in the room. 

Piett wasn’t sure how long he lay on the floor drawing in shallow breaths, trying to orient himself. He was fairly certain his ribs were intact-- miraculous really given the hits he’d taken--though they were very much bruised. His face was hot and swollen, his nose no doubt broken as well, and his  _ hand…. _

He made it to his knees and had to stop again as his vision blurred and black sparks flared. His stomach rolled and then he was retching helplessly on the floor. He managed to bring himself back under control with a supreme effort of will and made it to his feet. 

_ How _ would he make it back to his quarters without anyone noticing? For this could not be noticed, Piett knew. He had to hide it….somehow. Med droid--he realized. He looked around the room for the console and spotted it. He commed the nearest sickbay for a med droid to his location, claiming he had an accident in falling down some stairs. 

_ Oldest pathetic excuse in the book  _ Piett thought, but he couldn’t go anywhere like this. When the droid finally arrived, he took its ministrations quietly. There was only so much a droid like this could do, but at least the bacta on his face had reduced the swelling and bruises enough to be excused with running into a door…. _ or something, _ Piett thought glumly. It gave him something for the pain, but couldn’t do much for his hand except wrap it. He dismissed it and went out, limping, in search of his hat and the abandoned data pads. 

The corridors were still suspiciously deserted and Piett was fairly certain that Ozzel had managed to keep them clear for this very purpose. And yes, he was certain this order came from Ozzel. He had made no secret of how much he despised Piett’s origins, which puzzled the Captain as to why he had been assigned to the bridge crew. Clearly Ozzel didn’t want him there, so someone else must have done it. But who? 

He made his slow way back to his quarters, doing his best not to be noticed by passing personnel and at last closed his door behind him. His data pad was flashing a message on his small desk and he flicked it on as he removed his jacket painfully. 

Oh, marvelous. Ozzel had him on first shift.  _ Of course he did.  _

Piett made himself a cup of spiced Axxilan tea---certain his stomach couldn’t handle much else--- and tried to get what sleep he could. 

They were  _ not _ going to win, he determined. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ozzel is everything that is wrong with the world and Veers is curious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kicking off with two chapters because I can. :) Also I had a whole new idea for an angle in the story, so I will be polishing that, but yes, it's half written and thus I can post pretty regularly. Enjoy!

The next morning, Veers went to the brig where his wayward men had been taken, to officially release them and then give them a piece of his mind. When he arrived, the commander in charge looked up and chuckled a bit. 

“Well I was wondering when you were going to come. Much harder on your men than the navy!”

Veers cocked his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Oh the navy boys were released last night, per the Admiral’s orders.”

Veers took this in. “Indeed?” 

“Yes, apparently the Admiral  _ required  _ them. I’ll let my men know to go get your boys.”

Veers pondered this information quietly. He knew Ozzel would show favoritism--- no surprise there. But he  _ required  _ them? Why?

His men slunk out to face him, interrupting his musings, and he drew himself up sternly. 

“Gentlemen. I trust I shall never have a repeat of the incident of yesterday.”

Shame faced ‘no sirs’ all around. 

“Because that was embarrassing to me, to the Thundering Herd and to the Imperial forces! I expect better-- no matter the provocation!!” 

“Yes sir.”

“Dismissed. You’re on walker cleaning duty for a week!”

Quiet groans as they filed out. Sergeant Havell remained behind, clearly wanting his attention. 

“Sir…”

They moved out of the detention block at Veers’ urging. 

“What is it Havell?”   
  


“Well sir, the navy came and got their boys last night.”

“So I heard.”

“Well sir, I overheard something and it’s troubling me sir. I don’t know if you can do anything…”

“Spit it out sergeant.”

“Sir, they went past and I overheard one of them saying he would enjoy ‘taking the little bastard --sorry sir-- down a notch.’ Then another one laughed and I overheard ‘Axxilan’. Sir, that Captain, yesterday, the one who…”

But Veers was ahead of him on this and was rapidly putting things together. 

“Thank you for bringing that to my attention Sergeant. I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you sir. I sure wouldn't’ want anything to happen to him--- he seemed decent for a navy toff sir.” 

“Mm.” The sergeant walked off and Veers frowned. It could be nothing, but then scuttlebutt had before passed around stories of navy and army scuffles as well as rumored ways that Ozzel dealt with those he did not care for. These things were never openly discussed as there were worse things than Ozzel on the ship, in the form of Sith retribution. Still….

Veers found a console and looked up the officers currently on bridge duty, zeroing his attention in on Piett’s name. Time to do a little investigation. 

In the turbolift, Veers pondered his reason for going to the bridge unsolicited and realized that giving an apology for the scuffle in the hangar bay would be the perfect cover. Humbling yes, but he could handle a little of that if only to put his suspicions to rest. 

He reached his destination and entered the foyer of the bridge. Vader was not present, which made this slightly easier. He found Ozzel strutting near the starboard side and proceeded to make his way toward the man. As he went he scanned the numerous officers going about their tasks for the slim form of the Axxilan captain, but couldn’t spot him. 

“Yes, what is it Colonel?” snapped Ozzel as he approached. 

Veers swallowed the immediate reaction he had to the tone and strove to reply evenly.   
  


“I just wished to offer my personal apologies for the mishap in the hangar bay yesterday sir, between our men. I would like to assure you…”

“Yes, yes, well Colonel, I cannot expect army personnel to behave in the way we expect in the navy.”

_ And thank the Force for that, you crusty old Sithspawn _ . 

“Quite sir.”

“However, this is a good time to remind you Colonel…..” 

But Veers was no longer paying attention. He had spotted his target near the port side of the ship, now making his way back to the communications station. He was moving very carefully, almost disguising the slight limp. His hat was pulled as low as regulation allowed, but Veers was quite practiced in recognizing the signs of a beat down, and he clenched his hands.

“.....so I will expect that you see to it that it never happens again,” Ozzel finished. 

Veers tuned back in. “Of course sir, thank you.” 

But Ozzel had also spotted Piett.

“Captain!”

Piett changed course coming to stop a respectful distance from the two senior officers and Veers could tell that while bacta had been applied, the man was sporting the remains of a black eye, and likely cracked bones, in his face. 

“What happened to you Captain?” he asked point blank, and Piett gave him a startled, alarmed glance before recovering his self control as Ozzel leveled him with a fierce glare. 

“Fell down some steps yesterday,” he said calmly. “Stupid mistake really.”

_ Oldest pathetic excuse in the book _ , thought Veers. 

“Yes, Captain, it doesn’t do for the senior bridge crew to be that clumsy,” Ozzel pontificated. “Take these fleet assessments to Lord Vader, would you?” And he handed over a datapad to Piett, who was already holding two others in his left hand. The look he gave Ozzel was quickly gone, but Veers saw the flash of anger before he brought up his right hand which was wrapped, but clearly quite swollen. 

Ozzel smiled and placed it in his hand, and Piett went white, fumbling and clearly about to drop the pad, unable to close his fingers around it.

Veers grasped it. “I’ll give you a hand with that, Captain. Stairs must have done a number on you. Thank you for your understanding, Admiral. Come along, Captain.”

Ozzel paused as though he wanted to say something to contradict him, but as he had just given Piett an order---to Lord Vader no less--- he swallowed and turned away. 

The Captain shot him a grateful look and they made their way back out the blast doors. Veers was silent until they entered the turbolift.

“Thank you Colonel, I can juggle those now if you stack them in one….”

“How many?” Veers cut across him.

Piett paused and gave him a cautious gaze.

“I’m sorry sir?”

“How many…. _ steps _ beat the ever loving space snot out of you?”

Piett took in a sharp breath, that he clearly immediately regretted, wincing. 

“Sir…”

“Captain, do not take me for a man like Ozzel or his ilk. I know what a beat down looks like and I suspect I already know exactly who it was, and who ordered it.”

Piett sighed. “If you already know sir, I don’t know why you’re asking me.”

Veers switched tactics. “Why hasn’t your hand been seen to?” 

Piett shrugged. “Haven’t had time. I was on the morning shift and…”   
  


“After your double shift?” 

The shorter man raised an eyebrow at him.

“Done your homework I see sir.” 

“I suspect we both like to do that.” 

“Look Colonel, I appreciate that you care to notice, but there’s not much either of us can do about it.” 

Veers had an idea, but was not voicing it at the moment.

“You received this for being fair to my men, Captain. That doesn’t sit well with me. The least I can do then is help you carry these to Lord Vader.”

Piett gave him a long considering look, then seemed to come to some internal conclusion.

“Thank you sir, I’d appreciate that.” 

They walked in silence toward Lord Vader’s personal quarters and the door slid open as they approached. Both men shared a look at that---seeing the Force applied was getting more normal but it was still never something one could just get used to.

“Enter,” came Vader’s deep tones and they came in together. Vader was standing near his desk and turned as they approached.

There was a pause and Veers felt that black gaze judging them. 

“It took two of you to deliver the Admiral’s fleet assessments?”

Piett opened his mouth and Veers spoke over him as he handed the data pads to Vader.

  
“I was assisting the Captain, given his injuries.”

Piett gave him a withering glare.

“Indeed, Captain, why are you still on duty?” Vader asked, turning that unreadable gaze on the smaller man.

“My Lord, it was a mere accident on my part and I am fully fit for duty,” Piett said adamantly, bringing his hands behind his back and standing tall.

_ Liar,  _ thought Veers and the Dark Lord swung his head back as though he had heard the thought, to look at the Colonel. 

“Admiral Ozzel depends upon Captain Piett a great deal,” said Veers boldy, determined to do what he could for the man, “as this is his third shift in 48 hours.”

“Indeed.” Vader said no more and there was a beat, while Piett practically quivered in rage next to him.

“Thank you, gentlemen, dismissed,” Vader said finally and turned away.

The moment the doors hissed behind them, Piett whirled on the Colonel. 

“What did you think you were doing?” he spat. “Lord Vader has no interest in the petty things that happen with Ozzel. He clearly can’t stand the Admiral himself---I’ve noticed that he interacts as little as possible with him.”

“Well I thought it was time he  _ interacted _ with the Admiral, Captain. And I won’t apologize for it. Now, you really should get that hand looked at.”

“I can’t, I’m expected back on the bridge for another 7 hours. And thank you for your help Colonel, but please let me deal with this lest it become worse.” There was a note of quiet desperation in the man’s voice that Veers heard. 

“You won’t make it 7 hours,” Veers said coolly. 

The Captain drew himself up, his eyes hard. “Watch me.”

And he turned to make his way back to the turbolift.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers does some homework and decides to cross the army/navy divide. And there is such a thing as TOO stubborn, Piett.

Veers was by now, rather invested in seeing this drama play itself out. And there was something about the slight Captain….he appreciated a man with spine and Piett had one made of durasteel.  _ How had an Outer Rimmer made it onto Ozzel’s command staff? _

When Veers was done with his training exercises, he headed back to his quarters and began doing some research on his datapad.

_ Captain Firmus Piett was Axxilan by birth. He had joined the Axxilan anti-pirate force and made quite a name for himself there, notably due to being immune to corruption and bribes.  _

Veers tucked that tid-bit away and kept reading

_ Numerous commendations. Selected by Lord Vader to captain the Accuser. Moved to the Executor after the Battle of Yavin. No given source as to who had approved his transfer to the flag ship.  _

Veers shifted his reading to look at ship’s logs and reports for the last three months. His respect rose for Piett. Ozzel had sent him to Vader no less than 5 times in the last three months with reports. Given the high mortality rate for officers bearing bad news, this was impressive indeed, as well as despicable on Ozzel’s part. 

Piett had also had a ridiculous duty schedule---how the man was still on his feet was beyond Veers, and he considered himself one of the most stubborn people he knew. 

So. Ozzel hated Piett. Well, that was mostly explainable---Outer Rim origins, promoted despite that and serving in Death Squadron---yes Ozzel, who mostly had his position due to his birth and money, would hate that. 

Kriff it, Veers was not going to let this Captain go down without a fight. He looked up Piett’s quarters. Excellent---not too far from his own. Checking the wall chronometer, he had 20 minutes to meet Piett coming off the bridge. 

First he put in a call to his unit medic and requested him to come down to his quarters with a very complete kit. Then, he put his hat back on and went to  _ casually  _ stride down the corridor toward Piett’s quarters. 

He paused to have a conversation with a surprised AT-ST gunner, who seemed stunned at the attention paid to how his shift went, but it provided a reason to be hovering until he spotted the now familiar form exiting the turbolift. He ended the conversation and moved toward the Captain.

Piett was moving much more slowly and even paused at one moment to put a hand to the bulkhead as though to steady himself. He didn’t even seem to see Veers until he was almost in front of him.

“Captain.”

Piett raised startled eyes to his face and Veers blinked. He looked _ terrible. _ His bruises stood out more in his pale face and his hand was shaking slightly as he pressed it again to the bulkhead. But even as Veers watched, that steel resolve gathered in the hazel eyes.

“I believe, Colonel, you were incorrect about my handling 7 hours.”

Veers actually laughed, startled by the man’s audacity. 

“I believe I was, Captain. Now, can I offer you some refreshment in my quarters? I would imagine you…”

But he paused as Piett suddenly looked at him in alarm, face a bloodless white, and Veers knew what was happening before the Captain could say it.

“Colonel…. I…. oh….kriff it….” And Piett started to fall. 

Veers had excellent reactions and caught the Captain before he could hit the deck. Cursing himself (he really should have seen this coming) he lifted the smaller man into his arms and made his way swiftly to his own quarters, happily only passing one other crewman whom he glared into looking away, before getting inside. 

He carefully laid Piett on his sofa, pushing a pillow under his head and another under his legs to elevate them and bring the blood back to where it belonged. His door chimed and he jumped up to palm it, allowing the medic, a brusquely efficient young man by the name of Braxten, inside. 

“Is everything all right sir?”

“I’m fine Braxten, it’s not for me.”

“Um, so I see sir,” the medic replied, moving to Piett and swiftly opening his large bag. “What happened?” 

“Beat down last night, to my knowledge also pulled 3 shifts in the last 48 hours,” Veers said succinctly as Braxten pulled back Piett’s eyelids to shine a light in them, before picking up his scanner.

“Cracked cheek bone, broken nose, but it was reset. Looks like he had a standard med droid treatment for the face. Bruised ribs and kidneys, ridiculous amount of abrasions, and  _ holy kriff _ what did they do to his hand??”

“I’m going to guess it got stepped on,” Veers said dryly. 

“Why was this man even on duty?” Braxten demanded hotly, pulling out painkillers and injecting them. 

“Ozzel,” replied Veers curtly and Braxten had been around long enough to know what that meant. 

The medic snorted angrily as he unwound the medical tape around Piett’s hand carefully. 

“Damn it, this should have been treated immediately,” he exclaimed as he looked at the swelling and nearly black bruising that came into view. Veers was tempted to march up to the bridge himself and throttle Ozzel the old-fashioned way, as he remembered the smile the man had given when he handed Piett the data pad. 

“Can you deal with it here or does he have to go to the medbay?”

“I’d prefer him in the medbay,” Braxten replied, scanning the hand, “but I’m guessing since he’s here, that he’d not like that.”

“Correct.”

“All right, yes, I can do this here. But his blood sugar is in the lower decks-- who knows when he ate last? Maybe sir you could order something from the galley….” 

Veer rose to do so and came back just as Braxten injected a numbing agent into Piett’s wrist and then got to work on reducing the swelling with a cold wrap. The touch of the cold likely did it and Piett was blinking confused eyes up at them both.

Veers put a hand on his shoulder. “As you were Captain. It’s all right. You’re in my quarters. This is Braxten our medic. He’s going to take a look at you.”

Piett let out a slow breath and brought his gaze back up to Veers. 

“Apologies sir. I… I don’t think that’s happened to me before…” color was creeping its way up his cheeks.

“Frankly, it’s a miracle it didn’t happen sooner, you stubborn son of a Hutt,” Veers said, but he was smiling as he said it and sat in one of his chairs opposite the other two. 

“I don’t want to keep you from your duties sir, I’m sure I can get back to my quarters...”

Veers coughed in disbelief. “Captain, you couldn’t make it across this room, let alone to your quarters.”

He saw the now familiar stubborn set to the man’s jaw and chuckled. “Force, Piett, I thought I had the sheer cussedness record on this ship, but you’re giving me a run for my money. I’m off duty. You’re staying right there until Braxten says you can move. Braxten?”

“You’re not moving Captain.”

“That was vague,” Piett sighed, placing his free arm over his eyes. Braxten removed the cold wrap to check on Piett’s hand. 

“All right sir, I’ll be more specific: You need to eat. Do you remember when you last had something?” 

Piett opened his mouth and paused. “I had some tea? Last night?”

Veers rolled his eyes.

“Right. And I’m guessing you slept maybe 5 hours or so in the last 48? Not to mention the fact that you look like the Colonel here walked over you in one of the AT-ATs.”

“Exaggeration,” Piett stated, still with the arm over his eyes. 

“In summary,” Braxten continued beginning to carefully manipulate the bones in Piett’s hand, “you are officially unfit for duty.” 

“No!” Piett whipped his arm off of his face, and looked in horror at the young medic.

“You  _ can’t.  _ Sir,” he turned to Veers, “he really can’t. Ozzel will… I can’t let him…”

“Believe me when I say I’m very familiar with your situation Captain, but I’m hopeful that we can manage without having to request leave.” Veers was scanning through the bridge duty roster as he spoke and Piett hissed as Braxten maneuvered his hand.

“Sorry sir, that numbing agent should be kicking in any minute now.” Veers looked up and watched for a minute as Braxten worked and thus saw the moment the numbness kicked in, when the tension in Piett’s face and body relaxed. 

“Ah,” Veers found what he had hoped. “You’re not scheduled for duty for another 24 hours, Captain.”

“ _ How is that possible?” _ Piett was looking at him accusingly. Veers raised his hands defensively.

“I had absolutely nothing to do with it, Piett, you have my word.”

“I know I was scheduled in the next five hours.”

“And now you’re not,” replied Veers cheerfully as his door chimed. He rose and retrieved the galley tray from the droid. 

“I know you’re exhausted, Captain, and therefore not thinking straight, but if you recall there is one other person who can adjust your schedule,” said Veers returning and setting down the tray while Braxten splinted Piett’s hand and began to wrap it firmly in place, spraying it with sealant to harden the surface. 

Piett frowned and looked at Veers in puzzlement. Veers looked straight back and suddenly enlightenment dawned on Piett’s face. It was amusing to watch the man be at a loss for words.

“But... _ why... _ I don’t understand.”    
  


“All done,” Braxten announced and used experienced hands to ease Piett into a sitting position.

Veers handed him a bottle of water which Braxten opened and handed to the Captain.

“Take it slow sir, I imagine your stomach needs to adjust. Then you can have some of the bread and--- nice choice Colonel---Alderranian rice soup.” 

Piett was still clearly processing his thoughts and unwilling to voice them in front of the medic. Veers took charge.

“All right then Braxten, he has 24 hours, what are your orders?”

“Food and sleep sir. If you don’t mind Colonel, it would be wise for the Captain to be where he can be monitored.”

“How true Braxten, what do you suggest?”

“Don’t think I can’t hear the blatant manipulation that’s happening here,” put in Piett glaring at them both, but looking better and brighter, with water and painkillers doing their job.

“Thank you for asking sir-- I think he should park right there on your sofa sir, for at least the next 12 hours. If you like sir, I can leave a sedative.”

Piett choked in outrage on his water.

“Or I could tie him to the sofa,” remarked Veers casually, immensely enjoying taking the mickey out of the good Captain. 

“This is humiliating enough….”

Veers relented. “Thank you Braxten, I’ll keep you updated.”

The medic finished packing up his supplies. 

“I’ll check in regardless in 12 hours. Feel better, Captain.”

“Thank you, Braxten.”

The door hissed shut and the two men were left looking at each other. Piett reached for the bread and began to tear little pieces. Veers divested himself of his boots, paused to help Piett out of his, and helped himself to some of the soup, relaxing into his chair with a sigh. 

Both of them ate in reasonably companionable silence, Veers deliberately giving Piett time to marshall his tired brain and compose himself. When they were both done, the Colonel disposed of their dishes and pulled out a bottle of wine.

Piett raised his eyebrows, but Veers shook his head before he could say anything.

“Nope. We have both earned this, and I’m considering it medicinal for you. Now,” he said handing a glass to the Captain, “let’s try things again from the beginning. I’m Colonel Maximilian Veers of the Thundering Herd Division 1. The army has been my life, I despise Ozzel and am committed to following Lord Vader. Your turn.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piett is developing a fan base. Vader muses about a pilot and Veers just needs caf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm enjoying fleshing out the army in this story. It's a new challenge but I'm really enjoying that as well as having Piett interact with all these army guys. Thank you for reading!

Piett accepted the wine and the introduction, swirling the rich red liquid and watching the light catch in the glass. He took a sip and felt a few more aching muscles relax. Then he looked over at the other man.

“I’m Captain Firmus Piett, as you know. Raised in Axxila and always wanted to be in the navy. I have a mother and no other family. I don’t know much about Lord Vader yet, beyond the reputation, except that he goes through officers like chaff and has apparently messed with my duty schedule.” 

Veers was studying him with that cool analytical gaze of his and Piett took the opportunity to do the same. He was a tall man, with ‘command’ absolutely draped around him at all times and a handsome though hard, face. He was the sort of person, Piett reflected, who would go well on the  _ Join the Imperial Forces _ propaganda posters. 

“Now,” said Piett taking another sip and appreciating pain killers, and warmth and alcohol and  _ oh kriff _ he was going to fall asleep soon. He shook himself and focused on what he wanted to ask. “Why in the galaxies would Lord Vader shift the schedule of an insignificant Captain?”

Veers took an appreciative pull at his own wine and then cocked an eyebrow at Piett.

“Perhaps not so  _ insignificant? _ ” 

Piett snorted at that. “What do you mean?”

“You have a ridiculously long list of commendations. Oh, and that small detail of you commanding the Avenger before someone recommended you for transfer to the flagship of the fleet.”

Piett took this in. Also had more wine. “You’ve been  _ researching  _ me.” 

Veers smiled, a real open smile, and saluted with his wine glass. “I absolutely have, Firmus.”

Piett felt a small jolt at that. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had used his first name. He had not exactly made friends in the Axxilan anti-pirate fleet, and one wasn’t  _ friends _ with one’s subordinate or superior officers. Certainly not on Vader’s flagship. He considered this unusual man in front of him again. Still his superior officer, so should he….?

“I prefer Max, by the way,” Veers put in, reading his mind. “I don’t know what my parents were thinking with  _ Maxilmilian _ except that they thought it sounded more Core world I suppose.” 

Piett smiled into his glass. Then he lifted his eyes and tried it out, the wine giving him courage. “All right,  _ Max _ , it’s only fair you tell me about yourself.”

“Haven’t done the homework yet?”

Piett gave him a skeptical look. “And when, precisely, would I have done that?”

“Fair.”

“I know your name and I know that you work with the AT-ATs-- something of an expert I believe.”

“Thank you,” Veers poured himself a little more wine, and Piett sank a little further into the sofa, setting his empty glass on the table. Veers looked at him consideringly, then rose and went into the bedroom, returning with a pillow and a blanket. He handed the Captain the blanket and nudged his shoulder carefully. “Up,”he demanded and when Piett stiffly complied, he neatly tucked the pillow behind his shoulders. “I imagine you’d rather not sleep in your duty jacket,” he remarked and Piett flushed, because he had been totally okay with doing just that. But Veers had the ‘he who must be obeyed’ look in his eye that Piett was already learning to recognize, so he sighed and sat up again, carefully picking apart the clasps and belt. The Colonel neatly and efficiently slid it off, and Piett had to admit that it felt much better. 

They resumed their positions and Veers picked up his glass again.

“So sure I was going to fall asleep on you, Colonel?” Piett asked with a small smile. 

“Captain, I’m counting on it. Now, my life history to send you to sleep. It all started when I was born…” 

Piett laughed--- a real laugh--- and realized that he hadn’t done that in a long time either. Veers smiled. And proceeded to share his military story. Piett managed to stay awake long enough to hear about what Veers was doing during the mess at Yavin--- then, happy oblivion.

  
  


****

Vader flexed his prosthetic fingers, somewhat unconsciously swirling various objects around his desk with the Force. They had a possible lead on the new Rebel base. Apparently, a splinter cell was operating on Ambria and Vader was considering his options.

Ozzel was keen to jump right there and blast them to slag, but then that seemed to be his answer to everything. The man was no better than a Gamorean in both appearance and demeanor. Unfortunately, he had been the next in command after the previous admiral had suffered Vader’s  _ displeasure. _ His Master had not been happy with this change and Vader had paid for his decision. However, Ozzel was a core sycophant, which suited Palpatine’s purposes in keeping the fleet loyal to himself alone as much as possible. 

Then there was the pilot---the Rebel pilot positively glowing in the Force--who had fired the shot that killed the Death Star. Vader had no regrets about Tarkin’s monstrosity, except perhaps the huge waste of Imperial lives and resources. 

But that pilot….the Force was indeed strong with him, more than that, it was  _ familiar _ and this disquieted Vader. He discreetly sent out Fett and several others in search of information on this oh so successful pilot. Surely the Alliance would be proud of their hero--- his identity would not be hard to discover. 

The Emperor was clear that his priority was hunting out the Rebels, so for now Vader resigned himself to using others as his tools in searching out the Force user. 

But this brought his mind back to Ambria, and the issue of Ozzel. Vader was slowly building Death Squadron into a fleet he could be proud of ---- a fleet, furthermore, that was loyal to him over all else. He hated all things to do with Coruscant for many reasons, but he had known for some time now that he had no interest in taking the throne----ever. Political intrigue and the kind of power that Sidious was grabbing, held no value for him. Since…  _ her _ death, he lived in a haze of grief and rage---happy to be a weapon to be pointed and controlled. Recently, however, the fleet had brought him, not  _ joy _ precisely, but a certain satisfaction. It allowed him freedoms and the ability to do some of the things he had set out to do so long ago. He was ruthless with slavers and was slowly building a force that would allow him to even take on the Hutts with impunity. 

When Executor became his flagship, something of a kinship was made. She was  _ special _ , and she too was searching for the right commander. Thus far she tolerated those who had commanded her mighty bridge, but there was not yet the sort of unity that would allow the fleet to flourish as Vader desired. He had carefully maneuvered many officers onto the ship---some had not fulfilled the promise of their earlier careers, while others…

Colonel Veers had been a coup. Already the ground troops that the Lady carried were being shaped into an impressive force under his oversight. Yes, General Xarick was technically the senior officer, but it was clear the men largely looked to Veers. 

Thoughts of Veers brought the Dark Lord back to recalling his boldness earlier in the day. Boldness on behalf of the diminutive Axxilan Captain whom Vader had transferred from Avenger. Thus far, the man had been keeping his head down and dealing with Ozzel’s disgusting classicism with remarkable patience, but had not distinguished himself in Vader’s eyes in any outstanding ways. 

But today… something had sparked Vader’s interest. The Captain didn’t complain, though clearly he had been badly beaten, no doubt by some of Ozzel’s rabble. He evidently desired to fight his own battles given his feelings toward Veers as they stood before Vader. 

And Veers was both brave and clever to slide that bit of information before Vader. He hated Ozzel too, and in essence had just offered Vader a possible alternative. 

Vader pulled up Firmus Piett’s record once more--- also from an Outer Rim planet, his hatred of smugglers and slavers had made him quite the legend in the anti-pirate force. Vader tapped the surveillance of the incident in the hangar bay and observed the quiet Captain’s interference on behalf of the walker crew. He then flipped through Ozzel’s various orders in the past 24 hours, and found what he was looking for. A shut down of surveillance in a technical wing of the ship. However, the Lady was never truly down and Vader spoke to her.

“Lady, please show me any footage following Captain Firmus Piett in corridors 241-B and C.”

Immediately a holo image popped up on his desk and he watched the slight Captain exit the turbo lift. Vader saw the moment Piett realized what was happening and watched dispassionately as the Captain was set upon. He was a fierce fighter, though hopelessly outnumbered. When it was over, Piett at last moved, but his instinct was to keep it hidden, a clear determination not to let Ozzel have the satisfaction. 

Vader pulled up the bridge duty roster. Yes, indeed, the old bastard had scheduled the Captain for yet another shift, with barely any downtime in between. Vader felt grim satisfaction in changing this order, and also decided to be present on the bridge for a significant period of time tomorrow. 

A swell of satisfaction from the Dark Side rolled through him. 

Ozzel hated that.

  
  


***

  
  


Veers moved cautiously about his main living space, finding his boots and carefully putting them on so as not to wake the Captain who was out cold on his sofa. Veers was unabashedly pleased with himself for helping to manipulate events which allowed Piett to sleep uninterrupted and peacefully for the first time in who knew how long? 

And  _ Vader _ had clearly taken the rather broad hint that Veers had put before him. Whether he was on board with the long game that Veers had in his own head, remained to be seen. Yes, the Executor had a captain, but he was squarely in Ozzel’s pocket and merely a mouthpiece for whatever the Admiral desired to do. Veers didn’t have any particular hatred for the man, beyond that of the army for the navy, but he was useless for all intents and purposes.

But to have someone like Piett in command….he was fair, intelligent, and, Veers suspected, a  _ fighter _ . They could work together and the Colonel couldn’t recall the last time he’d had positive thoughts about a  _ vac-head. _ He caught himself smiling-- _ smiling!!? _ \--at the term and resigned himself to the fact that apparently he had just become friends with a slight navy captain whose stubborn streak matched his own. He grabbed his data pad and punched in an update for Braxten, regarding his patient, along with the code clearance for his quarters, made sure that Piett had a glass of water within his reach, and stepped out into the corridor. Where he was immediately accosted.

“Is it true sir?” Sergeant Havell fell into step beside him as they made their way toward the lower hangar bays.    
  


“Havell, the broad sweep of that question, especially before I’ve had caf….”

“Scuttlebut’s been sayin’ that Axxilan Captain---”

“His name is Piett.”

“Yeah, they’re  _ boasting,  _ Ozzel’s vac-head gang about what they did to him. Sir…”

Havell paused, no doubt at the look of rage that Veers revealed.

“It  _ is _ true. Damn sir, we should have watched out for him, we know how they are.”

“It is in no way your fault, Sergeant,” ground out Veers as they entered one of the main mess halls and Veers headed straight for the caf machine, Havell still at his heels.

“But sir, maybe we could--you know--arrange a way to sort of guard him from now on.”

Veers paused in his piping hot sip and looked at the Sergeant. A bluff but honest man---what you saw was what you got ---and he was very earnest. What was it about Piett that inspired this sort of...well,  _ devotion _ ? And in a grizzled AT-AT gunner no less! 

“That is... a noble thought Havell, though I’m not sure how you would go about it.” 

“We could have sort of shifts sir,” Havell replied as they left the mess and continued to the bay. “Not official or anything, but when one of us is off duty…”

“Us?” Veers asked, glancing at him.

“Yes sir. Anyone of us six that Captain Piett stood up for sir. The others are all waiting for us sir, and they’re concerned. We’re wondering right now actually…”

“Captain Piett is perfectly safe at the moment Sergeant,” Veers sighed as they got into the turbolift. 

“He is sir? How can you be sure?”

“Because he’s currently asleep on my sofa, Havell.” The Sergeant gaped at him for a moment and Veers took a long drink of the black and bitter beverage. 

“I looked into it,” Veers finally responded with a shrug. “So you can stand down a tad there Havell---I had Braxten fix him up.” 

Havell had an increasingly stupid smile on his face. 

“What?!” Veers snapped. 

“Sorry sir, it’s just-----everyone says ‘Iron Max’ and then…”

“Do you really want to finish this thought Havell?” 

“...you’re a right softie!”

“Havell,” said in frosty tones.

“Sorry sir.”

The lift arrived and the two men disembarked to join the rest of the division who were waiting to work on the new turning radius of the walker’s ‘heads’. 

Veers got them going under the watchful eye of General Xarick and waited until the man was at the far end of the hangar before he approached the six men under Walker 5.    
  


He could see from their faces that Havell had already filled them in on his actions and he sighed.

“All right, make this quick and then get up in there and test the radius in line with the guns.”

“Sir,” one of the pilots said. “First of all sir, what you did…”

“Will never be discussed outside this group,” cut in Veers, not pleased with all the mushy feelings that appeared to be sloshing around his men. “Please cut to the chase.”

“Yes sir. So we’ve come up with a roster of each of our off hours sir. But we don’t have access to the Captain’s schedule obviously, seeing as we’re army and not officers…”

“So you want me to provide that for you,” sighed the Colonel.  _ Force, he couldn’t believe he was involving himself in this bizarre bodyguard scheme. But apparently, Piett inspired that kind of loyalty in him too. _

“Right sir. We don’t think it’s likely they’ll go for him while he’s on the bridge sir, but other places…”

“Yes, I get the idea,” Veers didn’t like to think of Piett, alone and cornered, with no one to hear what happened. He thought happy thoughts of making Ozzel eat his blaster and calmed down. 

“Very well, I’ll be involved to that extent. Now go on and let’s see how this girl is functioning.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piett fixes things. Vader gives a briefing and Veers prepares his troops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting two chapters today as they're both a bit shorter. It's time for the action to heat up! I am afraid I cannot help myself--this mission came up and we needed to see how our Imperials act under pressure. 
> 
> *Cue song

Braxten had gently shaken Piett awake at the promised 12 hour mark and that was the first time he’d awoken in that duration. He’d been given food that he didn’t really remember, had something rubbed on the worst bruises, and more painkillers, and he must have dropped off again because he was waking now to stare blearily at Veer’s wall chronometer which informed him that he’d essentially had 18 hours of sleep. 

The Colonel was not present, but Piett felt it was high time he gave the man his space back. He shrugged on his jacket and bent stiffly to pull on his boots--those kidney shots would be with him awhile--and hunted around for his hat, which he eventually found on the desk. He neatly folded the blanket and placed the pillow on top. He wished there was any sort of way he could repay Veers for his consideration, but for now, leaving his quarters tidy would have to do.

Hoping he was reasonably presentable, Piett slipped out and made his way back to his own quarters. 

After a quick sonic shower, Piett donned a fresh uniform---doing his best not to look at the awful bruising that still covered his chest. He was abundantly grateful for Braxten’s administrations. While his hand ached distantly it was bearable, and his face looked much as it always had--- _ strained and pale, _ he thought to himself in dark amusement. 

Time to report back to the bridge. Piett was not a coward, but his stomach curled uncomfortably in the turbolift at the thought of an Ozzel whose plans to run the Captain into the ground had been foiled by the Dark Lord himself. 

The blast doors slid open when he palmed them and he straightened his spine as stiffly as he could before moving to report to Ozzel. 

The Admiral was standing at the very end of the walkway with Darth Vader at his side. 

_ Damn. Harder and harder. _

Piett could feel various eyes on him as he approached the two. On any other ship he would have reported to the Captain, but Ozzel insisted on this sort of micro management. Piett paused behind the two commanding officers.

“Captain Piett, reporting for duty, Admiral, My Lord.”

Ozzel turned, his signature frown for Piett already in place. Vader turned more slowly and Piett felt---- _ assessed _ in a way that he hadn’t when standing before the Dark Lord on other occasions.

Ozzel was clearly yearning to give him a nasty dressing down, but couldn’t do it in front of Vader. 

“Ah Captain. Finally. I want you to oversee the movement of the 10 AT-ATs from hangar 14 to hangar 15. Since you seem to be  _ fond _ of the army, I was sure you’d be the right man for the job.” Ozzel smiled nastily. 

“Yes, sir.” Piett saluted, keeping his face as bland as possible. 

“Oh, and Piett. This is something quite important, as I’m sure you understand. We don’t have time for paltry things like lunch breaks. We’re getting ready to leave orbit so this is high priority.”

_ Leave orbit for where? _ Piett wondered, his curiosity overcoming his anger at Ozzel’s pettiness. Involuntarily his gaze was drawn to the commander of the fleet.

Vader was still watching him, helmet slightly tilted and thumbs hooked into his belt--- a gesture that Piett recognized as his more relaxed stance. 

“Yes, Admiral. My Lord.” 

He made his way to hangar 14, bracing himself for the exceedingly long day this was going to be. Moving AT-AT’s was a nightmare. It involved loading the giant moving war machines onto transport ships, leaving one hangar and flying back to land in another, then unloading and storing them securely once more. So many things could go wrong, and while Piett had faith in the men to do this job well (they had only had one minor accident with this procedure in the time he’d been on board) it was stressful and tiring and usually ended with people snapping at each other. Piett could imagine that Ozzel was hoping for another incident like the other day, and having Piett in charge would give him an excellent excuse for disciplinary action. 

Well then. Piett tugged his jacket and squared his shoulders as he prepared to enter the hangar. Onward. 

  
  


***

  
  


Veers found Piett 6 hours later, jacket off and olive henley rolled above his elbows, pitching in next to one of the walker crews. Veers quirked a smile---Piett had shimmied up to the left back ankle joint of Walker 22 and had his hands in the wiring as he balanced upon it. Several of the army techs were watching the navy Captain with carefully hidden grins while they worked on the base of the foot.

_ More fans for the good Captain, _ Veers thought to himself. His men respected officers that worked next to them and this was a sight most of them hadn’t seen from a  _ naval _ officer in, well, ever. 

“All right, which wire am I looking for next?” Piett called down and then noticed Veers standing nearby with his hands on his hips. 

“Changed jobs did you?” the Colonel asked, “decided the navy was too clean?” Piett rolled his eyes.

“No sir. But this AT-AT…”

“ _ Trina _ , sir,” put in a trooper.

“Right,  _ Trina _ , here has a bum foot and we’re on a time crunch so I volunteered an extra pair of hands.” 

“Looks like the navy might be good for something after all sir,” added one of the techs to Veers, giving Piett a good natured grin. 

The naval officer returned it and Veers was gratified to see Piett looking so relaxed and, dare he say it, happy. 

“Well don’t let me keep you from making the navy useful,” Veers said. “How much longer do you expect this to take, Captain? I’m just making the rounds of the bays to report to the General.”

“Well, once  _ Trina _ here, can move again, we have four walkers left to load. Of course, then they have to be  _ unloaded.  _ But it has to be done in the next 5 hours before we leave orbit.” 

“Yes there’s a briefing for that,” Veers replied. 

“So I’ve been informed,” Piett responded dryly. “Thus, why the jacket is off as I’m not going to have time to change.” 

“Will I see you in the mess?” Veers asked.

“No,” Piett sighed, “no time for that I’m afraid.”

_ Oh hells no. Ozzel didn’t get to play that game again. _

“Sorry to hear that,” Veers merely said and moved off to check on the other walkers. Things were moving efficiently and the navy crew in the bay, while not overly friendly, were at least doing their jobs and leaving the army to theirs.  _ Another point for the Captain _ thought the Colonel, though he didn’t much care for the looks that the deck chief and chief bay engineer were giving Piett, who was back to his self appointed wiring task and had just laughed at something one of his gunners said. 

Veers moved on to the other bays before swinging through the closest officer’s mess. He ate with swift efficiency and then ordered pasta salad and a caf to take with him. 

The last walker was making its way into the transport, its massive feet rumbling throughout the bay. The army engineers were watching closely and Piett was up on the walkway overlooking the bay keeping a sharp eye on all the proceedings. 

“Captain, a moment if you please!” Veers called up, and Piett gave him a nod before moving to the stairs. 

They met at the back of the bay where numerous crates of tools and supplies were neatly stacked. 

“Colonel,” Piett said. “We’re almost ready to disembark with the final walkers.”

Veers looked at the shorter man’s somewhat grimy hands as he handed the man the food and caf he’d brought with him. 

“Ozzel won’t be entirely pleased with our army dirt there, Captain.”

“Well, isn’t it just terrific that we have gloves then, Colonel Veers,” Piett responded primly, taking a deep inhale of the caf. 

“ _ Force _ , that’s good--- thank you, sir.” 

“Sit for a moment, Piett,” Veers said and the two men seated themselves on the crates.

“So where are we going?” asked Piett trying to eat neatly, though clearly ravenous. 

“You think Ozzel shares these thoughts with me?” Veers responded in amusement.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the General.”

“Xarick has never been particularly chatty with his staff. I don’t think it’s personal, he just doesn’t care to get to know any of us beyond our working relationship.”

“Ozzel would rather eat a mynock than share anything with me, certainly,” Piett replied.

“Well, scuttlebutt says that Lord Vader has a lead on a rebel cell, but then scuttlebutt is only reliable 50% of the time so….”

“Mmm.” Piett finished his dinner and found the waste unit, then returned to Veers.    


  
“Thank you again Colonel--I’d better make sure the transport gets away safely. I’ll see you at the briefing.” He offered a quick salute and a smile.

“Don’t forget your gloves, Captain,” Veers reminded and strode out of the bay.

  
  


****

Piett pulled the black synthleather glove on his left hand as he made his way to the Senior Officer’s conference room near the bridge. He was as presentable as he was going to be, after working in a hangar bay for nearly 12 hours. He could only hope that he wasn’t important enough for Ozzel to notice the slight smudge on the right knee of his trousers. Well, that and the fact that his casted right hand was also rather dirty from working on the AT-AT. All right then, since he would be standing in the back anyway, hands behind the back stance it was. 

He paused to get his breathing under control, then palmed the doors and entered. Vader was not yet present, much to his relief. The senior officers were all standing behind their respective seats at the large round table talking quietly. Piett caught Veers’ eye and the Colonel nodded slightly to him. Ozzel also seemed to notice this interaction and shot a suspicious glance between the two.

_ Kriff _ . He didn’t want to get Veers into any trouble---well. Any  _ more _ trouble than he typically had with the Admiral. He had paused too long as Ozzel was glaring at him, so he quickly made his way to stand with some of the other less senior officers near the large plants along the wall. He settled into his parade rest and waited. 

“ _ Piett! _ ” came a hiss to his left and he cast a startled glance at the commander near him. He didn’t know the man well, just that he was often on the bridge at weapons. 

He raised an eyebrow in response.

“How’s the  _ hand _ ?” the other man sneered, prompting a ripple of quiet chuckles from the other officers near him. All Ozzel flunkies and Core world rich boys. Well, wonderful. That was bound to be in the scuttlebutt too and Piett had forgotten all about that aspect of his ordeal. 

“Don’t think this is over,  _ Captain _ ,” whispered another on the other side of the commander. “The Admiral has a special  _ mission  _ for you so I hear.”

Piett kept his eyes forward, but his mind was racing furiously.  _ Sithspit _ . It was too much to hope that he could just be ignored then. Something had really got a Dantooine burr in Ozzel’s saddle and he was going to have to be very careful from now on. Before he could think on it too much more however, the temperature in the room lowered as Lord Vader swept in, followed by General Xarick. 

“Sit,” the dark Lord ordered and the room became silent. “Lights Lady,” Vader ordered and the room became darker while a holo diagram of a planet popped up in the middle of the large table. This was the first time Piett had ever seen the ship and Lord Vader interact and he marvelled.  _ A special ship indeed _ . But Vader was speaking and he focused.

“You are looking at Ambria. We have reliable reports that a Rebel splinter cell has been using this as their base of operations. Because they have intelligence that we desire, we will not be utilizing the fleet itself, lest we destroy that.”

Beside Vader, Ozzel scowled, and yes, Piett could just imagine that the man was angry at not coming in and reducing the planet to a char heap. Ozzel was unsubtle in every way possible. 

“General Xarick” Vader gestured at the man and the General stepped forward.

“Our men will drop in and occupy their main forces, along with both commando groups from the army and navy. Meanwhile, a special forces group will seize intel and capture the heads of this operation.” 

Locations for this were lighting up in blue on the planet and the image zoomed in closer. 

The Intelligence Major took the floor. “This is crucial information that we believe will lead us directly to the new location of the Rebel base. It is essential that our special forces groups in all branches work together seamlessly.” He glanced swiftly at Vader. “Failure is not an option.”

And everyone in the room knew what that meant. 

Ozzel stepped up last. “To ensure that all of your divisions are successful together we will of course, have liaison officers on the ground who will be responsible for the smooth interaction of our troops.”

The lights went back to their normal levels. 

“Major Dalli will be representing the Imperial army.” A broad chested and fifty-something man saluted from the back. 

“And Captain Piett will represent the Imperial Navy.” If someone had poured ice water over his head, Piett could not be in more shock. He schooled his features with a mighty effort and glanced up to meet Ozzel’s gaze. There was no mistaking the malicious satisfaction over the surprise. He dared a quick look at Veers, whose face was carved from granite and more forbidding. 

“You will work together on this gentlemen and answer to me,” continued Ozzel. 

“We leave orbit in 5 hours,” intoned Vader, “ and will arrive near Ambria in the next 24. Make your men ready.” And he swept out, effectively ending the briefing. 

“I told you it would be special, Piett,” sneered one of the lieutenants near him. “I’m told the casualty rate is expected to be quite  _ tragic  _ for this mission. This Rebel cell is pretty vicious with Imperials. Wouldn’t want to get caught by them--- I’d eat my blaster first.” 

Piett didn’t trust himself to respond as the army Major approached him to discuss how best to liaise. 

  
  


***

Vader moved slowly down the corridor, ignoring the men getting out of his way or bowing to him deferentially. He sensed the importance of this mission--- it was one of the key reasons he was desirous that it succeed. He  _ knew _ the information they sought was there. And the closer they were to the main holding of the Rebel base, the closer he was to finding the pilot. 

Thus, the number of troops he was sending was intended to overwhelm. Of course, this also made organizing such an invasion force a massive challenge. Ozzel was becoming more and more  _ irritating _ to work with, but his choice of Piett as liaison officer was an unexpected bonus---a chance for the man to either prove himself or not. 

Clearly Ozzel--the ass-- hadn’t warned his subordinate of this prestigious appointment. Vader had felt the shock radiating out of the slim Captain, though he did a very credible job at keeping his composure. Vader sensed that Ozzel was looking for a way to get rid of the man once and for all---what better way than an exceedingly dangerous ground mission?

But Vader had always been obstinate, even …... _ before _ . He himself planned to join this expedition. He would ensure that the Axxilan captain wasn’t stabbed in the back before he had a chance to prove his worth. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers is frankly, a very good friend. Piett is not fond of crash landings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am utterly rubbish with technology. I say this because I want to direct you to look at the marvelous comic---Abundance of Faith by Laivaaja, but don't know how to link it! :) It was several of her gorgeous illustrations for Piett and Veers that frankly inspired much of how I see their relationship. The chapters, Loyalty and Missions, have the two of them together and it says much about Laivaaja's skill that two panels can convey so much about how they work together. Go feast your eyes upon it!

Veers found Piett in the third location he searched and was slightly amused to see a not so subtle shadow that looked remarkably like an AT-AT gunner, lurking near a tall Nabooan willow about 20 yards away. 

“This is one if my favorite officers’ lounges as well,” he remarked without preamble, looking appreciatively at the large windows where hyperspace was giving a glorious display. 

Piett had not been gazing at said display, and lifted weary eyes from the 6 or 7 data pads he had spread on the table in front of him. 

“Also, don’t look now but I think you’re being followed.”

Piett snorted lightly. “Was that your doing by the way? Because I was  _ informed _ by...Gunnery Sergeant Havell was it? I was informed that he or one of his cronies were going to be and I quote, “sticking close to you sir” at  _ all _ times that I’m not on the bridge.” 

“It was not my idea, Captain,” Veers responded, moving one of the pads off the opposite chair and seating himself. “But I  _ may  _ have enabled it. Also, how on earth did he get into the  _ officers’  _ lounge?”

Piett sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I  _ knew _ that they had my schedule too perfectly worked out. As to the Sergeant, apparently I wasn’t going to have much choice, so I just said there were security concerns and he had been assigned to the lounge.”

Veers raised his eyebrows at the man and signalled a serving droid. “And they bought that?” 

Piett gave him a  _ look _ . “I have found, Colonel, that when one is very assertive and confident, people will buy a great deal of bantha poodoo.” 

Veers grinned at him as the droid zipped over. “Two cafs…”

“Sorry, I’ll have the spiced tea again please,” inserted Piett.

“All right one caf then,” Veers told the droid. It whirred off and Veers returned to his thought. “And how often in your career have you allowed people to be deceived by this demeanor of yours, Captain?” 

Piett gave him an unexpectedly evil grin and his hazel eyes flashed mischief. “Lost count I’m afraid.”

Veers paused for a moment as the droid returned with their drinks, then wrinkled his nose at the strong spicy smell coming from Piett’s cup. 

“ _ What _ is that?”

“Axxilan spiced tea,” Piett responded unapologetically. “Cheers!” 

The two officers enjoyed a long sip of their respective hot beverages as Veers mulled over several things on his mind.

“Firmus,” he began and was rewarded with the pleased little start that Piett made at being addressed familiarly. And  _ that  _ was a bit of a sad statement on the man’s social circles. 

“I wonder how you would feel about training with me some time?”

Piett regarded him for a moment. 

“You mean if we both survive the upcoming mission?”

Well.  _ That _ tone and topic were next up on the agenda. 

“Yes. By training, I should say, more specifically, sparring.”

Piett went still, his knuckles turning white on his cup, his jaw getting that stubborn tilt…

“Hear me out before you assume I’m insulting you, Captain. I have no doubt you can take care of yourself-- I know enough about Axxila and the Outer Rim to make some educated guesses about your experience. I just thought that it would be good to specifically train with someone outside your weight class so you can practice fighting as dirty as possible.”

Piett relaxed slightly and mulled it over. “That would be useful. Thank you… Max.” 

“So,” Veers continued, “you think our odds of survival are low do you?”

“Well I was given 24 hours to coordinate a huge ground attack with the navy and army. I’m apparently joining this attack and this high priority mission is the first one I’ve taken groundside since transferring. If we fail, Vader chokes me slowly. And if we win, it’s in the expectation that I’m as dead as Ozzel is hoping.” 

“I realize, Firmus, that I don’t know you all that well yet, but this despondency seems somewhat out of character for you,” Veers said in concern, setting down his caf.

“Sorry, I’m sorry Veers. I’m just so damn tired, and I’m tired of people absolutely hating that I’m here, and being constantly on the alert…” he trailed off. “And now I’m feeling sorry for myself. Ugh.”

Veers considered the bowed head of the Captain for a second. 

“All right, Captain, as likely your only friend on this ship…”

“Oh thank you for  _ that _ ,” Piett muttered into his hands.

“I’m going to lay out a few things for you. Think of it like an academy lecture from the best teacher.”

Piett laughed the laugh of an overly exhausted person, but sat back in his chair and made a ‘carry on’ motion with his hand. 

“You have already demonstrated massive capability and calm thinking under pressure. If you can do that in a small thing like a bay brawl or a stint on the bridge with Lord Vader, you can do it for something on this scale. 

Next, you served a full shift on the bridge after a nasty beatdown just so Ozzel wouldn’t have the satisfaction. Are you really telling me that you can’t stick it to him this time as well, and not die?”

Piett coughed a laugh, mid sip of his tea.

“Finally,” Veers continued “you will be accompanied by the finest division in the fleet, the Thundering Herd, who seem to have an increasing number of members that have adopted you as one of their own for the simple reason that you’re a decent human being and that you have this natural aura of command. They respect that, and quite clearly, “ he motioned to Havell, “they will protect you.”

Piett flushed. 

“Now,” said Veers. “What is utterly crucial, that must be done in the next four hours?” 

“Well the Major and I have done the most important aspects of this assignment. I’m currently going over the locations for launch for all these transports and making sure that we won’t have any unfortunate collisions with the TIEs.”

Veers looked over the stack of data pads and back to Piett’s red rimmed eyes. “Can it wait for four hours?”

“I suppose…I just want to make sure…”   
  


“Good.” Veers rose abruptly and gathered up the pads in a stack and handed them to the shorter man. “You can quintuple check it after a nap, Captain. Sergeant!”

Havell crossed the short distance to the two officers. Piett smiled at him as he rose to his feet.

“Sergeant, our Captain---,” Piett made a small derisive noise at that, but Veers could tell he was pleased. “---is going to get a bit of rest. Please could you escort him to his quarters? And then go do whatever it is you do on your downtime, Havell.”

“Yes sir, Colonel. After you, Captain.”

Piett paused and held out his hand to Veers.    
  


“Colonel, thank you.”

Veers took it firmly. “It’s what friends do, Piett.”

  
  


****

Piett couldn’t remember the last time that he’d worn battle armor. Likely in the pirate hunting days. There wasn’t the same need aboard a naval vessel, as on the ground, for such equipment. Yet here he was, tugging at the chest plate. It was heavy and felt strange, along with his service blaster, which he hadn’t worn since his time on the Avenger. He stood next to Major Dalli in Executor’s biggest bay as they waited to board the first transport for the planet. 

The TIE fighters and the first wave of Stormtroopers were en route for the ‘softening’ up phase of the campaign. They would be followed by the walkers and troop transports as well as the two liaison officers and the second wave of the 501st. 

Veers was in Walker 2---Piett had asked--- and not visible of course, but he would be directing the left flank of the assault. 

Piett flexed the fingers on his right hand experimentally. Braxten had cornered him roughly 8 hours prior to arriving in the system and insisted that Piett allow him to treat his hand more extensively with bacta.

“They’re sending you planetside with a broken hand!” the medic had exclaimed indignantly, setting up the small portable tank and proceeding to cut off the light cast. “Do they want you  _ dead _ ?”

“Possibly,” Piett had responded dryly as the younger man placed his hand into the container and the tingle of the bacta set in. Braxten looked at him, shocked.

“Captain, are you being serious?”

Piett sighed. “Braxten, I’ll manage. But yes, I don’t have many friends on the bridge. Can you hand me that data pad? I need to check some things while I’m sitting here.” 

The medic had complied and Piett did his work over the next few hours while they did their best to get his hand into some semblance of working order again.

He lightly gripped the handle of his blaster. He was able to do it---which was a huge improvement--- but it hurt and he didn’t have much strength in the grip to speak of. 

_ Move on. You’ll handle it,  _ he told himself and shifted his duffle over his other shoulder. 

“When was the last time you were dirt-side in action?” Major Dalli asked next to him, lifting his own duffle and moving toward their transport.

“Too long,” Piett replied wryly.

“Haven’t forgotten how to use that I hope, son?” the Major questioned, nodding at his blaster.

_ Son? Force, he wasn’t  _ that _ much younger than the Major, really. Yet, again his height worked against him.  _

“No sir, I try to stay current.”

_ Every day on the range, getting out the pent up frustrations of dealing with so much hate and contempt from the bridge. _

“Good thing,” said the Major as they found their seats and stowed their bags securely beneath them. “This splinter cell is nasty. The things they do to captured Imperials….especially officers…” He shuddered a bit and Piett tried not to let it affect him. He seemed quite sincere. On the other hand, Piett had dealt with pirates whose methods of dealing with prisoners had been …..creative. He had a few scars of his own from that. 

The landing platform hissed closed and they were on their way. Piett scanned his data pad, once more looking at the information regarding Ambria. He liked to know what he was getting into with his surroundings, but it was also an effective means of keeping himself focused and calm. 

It was not inhabited-- _ except by criminals and Rebel splinter groups apparently _ \---but had been in the past. Abandoned mining operations and military bases were scattered around a large chasm in the northern hemisphere, which was where they were headed. It had several native species, the most concerning being something called the Hssiss which were roughly the size of a man and most like giant lizards, though apparently their bite was poisonous.  _ Delightful. _ They preyed on the large herds of neeks which were a very nervous animal which seemed to be the reason they survived. 

The staga looked to be the most useful--- they had been tamed at various times and could be ridden with the right protections. 

The transport lurched, and Piett looked up. It lurched again. 

“Commander!” Piett called to the man at the front of the hold section. “What’s going on?”

The commander poked his head into the cockpit.

“Sir the Rebels apparently have a long range canon they’re firing at us. We’re taking evasive action”

Well that little piece of information hadn’t been in the briefing.

“No doubt our TIEs will take care of that shortly,” Piett rejoined, making sure to cast his voice for the rest of the men in the hold, some of whom looked slightly apprehensive. 

“Yes sir.” 

Piett turned his gaze back to his pad right as they were all shaken  _ hard _ , and all right.  _ That. That was an explosion.  _

The transport was veering wildly and Piett smelled smoke.  _ Kriff. _

“Everyone make sure they’re strapped in!” Piett yelled. The Major was yelling at any troopers without helmets to put them on. 

The transport did another stomach churning roll, and the pressure increased.  _ They must be getting into atmosphere by now,  _ Piett thought.  _ How bad was it? The pilots didn’t seem to be able to hold on to much control.  _ Not for the first time, Piett was wishing he could be in the cockpit. He had never liked being unable to see the stars and not be close to the action. The commander near the front staggered back toward them.

“We’ve got almost no control sir!” he shouted to Piett. “They’re doing their best but we’re coming in hot.”

“Give me a location,” Piett yelled back. “I want to know where we’ll roughly be in relation to the rest of our forces!!” 

“Maybe two miles off from the original landing zone sir! That’s our best estimate!” 

_ Damn, damn, damn.  _

“Get yourself secured, Commander,” Piett shouted. 

The pressure was getting rather unbearable and already black sparks were dancing across his vision. Piett felt under his seat for the oxygen mask and had just grasped it, when a horrific shudder happened throughout their ship. A sensation of free fall, then…...darkness. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers does not appreciate ion cannons. Piett does his best to lead a ground assault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not as confident describing army battles as I am with the space battles. So please forgive any inaccuracies. :)

“Why weren’t we informed that they had long range canon?” Veers demanded as the TIE fighters swooped in ahead of them. He stood behind the pilots for their large transport, watching as the distant buildings came into sight, the red laser blasts streaking by them dangerously.

“It wasn’t in the intel,” came General Xaric's voice from the comm. Our fighters should be able to handle this shortly.” The ship slowed to begin landing procedures.

“Sir!” a lieutenant called. “Some of our transport ships have been hit sir!” 

Veers tried not to allow the cold feeling in his stomach. It was expected---they expected high casualties. Just because they came from a surprise long range canon was nothing to get excited about. 

_ Piett’s on one of those transports, _ whispered an inner voice.  _ Yes, as well as thousands of his men, _ insisted his rational mind,  _ let’s not lose sight of the big picture as well. _

But it had been a long time since he had experienced a friendship like the one developing here, not since his academy days really. He didn’t like the thought of yet another friend gone to the altar of war. 

Their ship put down the landing clamps and Veers went into command. 

“All right gentlemen, let’s get our girls out and on their way!” he ordered into comms. 

As the giant lumbering war machines exited their transports, Veers received another urgent ping to his comm. 

“Sir!” It was the commander of Sabre squadron.

“They have some sort of shielding over the main building sir! We haven’t been able to penetrate it!” 

“Find me the power source,” Veers ordered. “We’ll use our ladies to take them down--we’ve got heavier firing capability.” 

“Yes sir, on it.”

_ Well. Utterly no one had said this was going to be easy. _

Veers made his way swiftly to AT-AT 2, affectionately known as  _ Queenie, _ and climbed up the chain ladder into her belly. On his right, Havell and his squad were getting 5 up and running. 

“Is left flank ready?” asked the General over the comm, as Veers adjusted his helmet and took his usual place behind the pilot and the primary gunner.

“Affirmative sir. Scanning for the power source to that shield as we speak.” 

“All right then, Colonel, let’s move out.”

“Yes sir!”

“All right, Herd,” Veers said over the general channel. “TIE groups are looking for the power source for that shield. Once we locate it we’ll send a group to deal with it. In the meantime we head for the compound and cut off any means of escape.”

They all began their way forward, giant feet making the ground tremble. The enemy laser fire was now divided between shooting at the incoming troop transports and at the ground forces. One walker was already stalled---a shot to the front leg had crippled her. Veers could see the Rebels begin to run for her, breaking their cover. 

“Take care of 7!” he shouted. THe armor was heavy, but the right thermal detonator…..

They continued their march. Veers contacted the TIE leader.

“What’s the word commander?” 

“Nothing as of yet sir. I can tell you that we’re not picking up a signature anywhere on the right side. Scanning the left now.”

“What about that chasm?” Veers asked. “Could that be masking an energy signature?”

“Sending a group to check it out now sir.”

“Sir!” his gunner exclaimed. “The General’s Walker was hit sir! They have an ion cannon.”

_ Well kriff it to every hell imaginable. _

“Walkers 12 and 15, protect the General!” Veers commanded. 

“Take out that ion canon!”

The TIE group was aware of it now too. An ion canon was too unwieldy to attack TIE fighters at close range and it took time to build power for their shots. But they were definitely effective against the Walkers. 

“Colonel Veers!” The TIE group leader again. “I think we’ve located the shield power source, sir-- it’s in the chasm, but they have some heavy guns protecting it. I think…..” static cut him off. 

“Commander!” Nothing. 

_ Damn. _

“Whoever’s in charge of Sabre force now, get to that power source in the chasm!” Veers ordered. “We can….” 

He cut off as an ion blast ripped through the AT-AT, the power sparking and crackling around them before going absolutely dead. 

“All right,” Veers said calmly. “Grab the blaster rifles and as much spare ammo as you can, let’s get down and….”

“Look out!” yelled the pilot as laser fire slammed into their helpless war machine and slowly she began to tilt. 

  
  


****

  
  


_ It was so hot. _ This was the first conscious thought Piett had and he could feel the sweat rolling down his face before he opened his eyes. Around him, men were in various stages of groaning or deathly still. He hurt fiercely, all his previous bruises ramped right back up to feeling freshly received. However, it did not seem that he had acquired anything new, for which he was grateful. He managed to undo the crash harness, and stumble to his feet. 

He made his way across the uneven deck toward the cockpit, checking on various men as he went. Some were unconscious, others dead. The commander had not managed to strap in in time. Piett closed his eyes and moved his body as carefully as he could to check the pilots. One was alive, but hurt, the other…

Piett went into command mode and began to organize the survivors. They moved the bodies of the dead outside in neat rows. Regrettably, his counterpart, Major Dalli hadn’t made it either. Piett tried not to reflect on the fact that he had been sitting next to the man. Why had he lived and the other hadn’t? 

Once they had field dressed the wounded, Piett made his decisions.

“Listen up!” he called. In the distance he could hear the fire of battle, and the gentle rumble of the AT-ATs. “Those who are able will come with me and rejoin the troops. Those of you who are wounded will stay here with the casualties. You,” he pointed at a young lieutenant with a broken arm, “contact the medics and get yourselves evacuated. Questions? All right let’s move out. Navy scouts will take point, followed by army, followed by the rest of you.”

Piett took his position behind the scouts and they moved swiftly, but not frantically toward the battle. The scouts paused behind cover of some of the large boulders that dotted the dusty, sweltering terrain, and one of them pulled out his macrobinoculars. After a moment, he handed them to Piett.

“Looks like they’re having trouble getting the main shield down, sir. And that’s an ion cannon or I’ll eat my helmet.”

Piett looked at the situation. He could see the walkers pounding at the base. Small Rebel figures were engaging and at least 3 walkers were immobilized by the ion canon. Even as he watched, one of these was blasted in a brilliant haze of orange. His gut clenched.  _ Please let the Colonel be all right. _

“All right.” Piett handed the macrobinoculars back. “We come in using the cover of these boulders around the edge of this ravine. It’s not wonderful but it’s something. We look to flank the Rebels that are coming out of those trenches in front of the base and keep them from going after the downed Walkers. Any questions?”

A mute shaking of heads all around. 

“All right then. Blasters on kill,” Piett ordered, and they moved out. 

It would have been too much to ask for the Rebels not to notice them until they were at their objective, but they got reasonably far, before fire began lancing their way.

Piett’s small force flung themselves to the ground and behind nearby boulders, and returned fire. 

“Orders sir?” called one of the navy commandos. Piett assessed the situation through the scope of his blaster rifle. 

“We’re drawing their fire and attention. Good. It’s giving those walkers a better chance. Let’s let them get closer and then use the thermal detonators. Cease fire on the right as though we’ve lost men. Draw them in.”

“Yes sir!” 

Piett checked his scope again….and realized that the walker closest to them was number 2.  _ Well that was a good sign at least.  _

The Rebels were now approaching their position. One of the troopers on Piett’s right was hit in the head and slumped. 

“Detonators!” Piett called and five men flung them out. A brilliant explosion. “Go at them!” Piett shouted and he and the men ran at the recovering Rebels, firing rapidly. 

“Great work,” Piett called as the dust started settling. “All right, next move…” but he was interrupted by the sound of the ion cannon at close range and looked up to see Walker 2 wreathed in blue lightning. Moments later, laser fire lanced out to hit her relentlessly and slowly the walker tumbled.

_ No. Kriffing….no. _

“Orders sir?”

“Commander, take the navy personnel and continue as we planned. The rest of you are with me. Let’s get that crew out of there!”

“Sir….they may not be…” began a trooper.

“That is Colonel Veers’ Walker, trooper. We are absolutely going to try and get the second in command out of there!” 

“Sir! Yes sir!” 

Piett took the lead, running now, and acutely aware of just how vulnerable the downed walker was. 

He ran a swift, assessing eye over it and determined the best way to get in was the ‘head’ which was already damaged—-leaving an opening if they could just make it wider….

“Sergeant!” He called to the army commando on his right. “Help me make this opening bigger. Have your men cover for us!” He was already swinging his blaster rifle to his back and searching for the best way to climb up, spotting some hand holds in the damaged metal. His first grasp brought a jolt up his arm from his right hand and he had to bite his lip hard against that pain.  _ Breathe through it, breathe…. _ He got a foothold and reached to swing himself up unto he had a precarious balance on the tilted roof. The Sergeant was behind him and Piett could hear the rest of the men firing at the enemy. 

“You see the section I mean Sergeant?” Piett panted, grasping the edge with his gloved hands. 

“Yes sir,” the far more burley man answered, bracing his boots. “On three sir. 1..2..3!” Both men pulled, Piett despising the weakness in his hand, but their effort was paying off. 

“All right Sergeant…”

“Ellery, sir.”

“All right Ellery, I’m going in to check on the crew. You keep making this opening wider, as I’m pretty sure not everyone there is built like me.”

“Yes sir,” Ellery replied and proceeded to obey while Piett sat himself on the lip of the opening and carefully lowered himself down. 

It was hot and hazy inside and he stumbled a bit before getting his balance. 

“Veers!” he coughed. “Colonel!” His foot hit a body on the floor and he knelt to feel a pulse. It was strong and he couldn’t see any major injuries. What’s more he realized that he recognized the armor and immediately turned the man so he could see Veers’ face. 

“Max!” He could see why Veers was unconscious---he must have hit his head pretty hard and his helmet had come off at some point in the action. Leaving him for a moment, the Captain scrambled over to the other two occupants in the head. One had a broken leg and the other was dead from a broken neck. 

“Ellery!” he called up. “I’m going to need a hand with some wounded!” He didn’t get a reply and moved to look up the opening more clearly.

“Ellery….” 

And found himself staring at the business end of at least five blasters.

_ Son of a Hutt. _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are days when even patient people have had enough. Piett is having one of those days. And it would be great if Veers could be conscious for this. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are doing well with all the many things going on in the world. I think that writing has been one of my ways of staying sane--to have this marvelous world to escape to and follow our boys in their adventures. I really appreciate all you lovely people riding along with us. 
> 
> And now.....it's time to up the tension and the DRAMA :D

The Rebels finished pulling the command crew out of the Walker and dumping them unceremoniously onto the dry earth, prompting Piett to yell at them. And that earned him a backhand to the face while his hands were pinned behind his back in binders. 

“Shut up shrimp,” a scarred Twi'lek, missing one lekku, snarled at him in basic. 

Piett muttered some truly foul names in Huttese and a nearby human raised their eyebrows. 

“Oh ho, how did an Outer Rimmer become an Imperial Captain then?” he responded. “You’ll be fun to take apart.” 

“That’s all of them that aren’t dead!” shouted a Rodian, holding Piett’s confiscated blaster rifle. He jumped down and joined his comrades surrounding the captured Imperials, who were all kneeling (or lying) before them. 

And to Piett’s horror they began to shoot the troopers and injured men. To his left Ellery was roaring in rage and as a blaster neared Veers, who was fortunately lying in front of the Captain, Piett struggled to his feet to plant himself squarely over the fallen Colonel. 

“Out of the way,  _ stoopa.” _ And he was struck with the butt end of the rifle, collapsing to his knees over Veers. Piett spat out blood, took a breath and moved once more in front of Veers.

“You’ll take both or none,” he snarled.

He was hit again, and now the group was laughing and chuckling as the diminutive human became suddenly more interesting. He met Ellery’s eyes as he struggled painfully once more to his feet. The Sergeant was staring at him intensely, his own face bruised from an earlier meeting with a fist.

The Twi’lek came to stand in front of him this time and punched him in the gut. Piett doubled over, completely winded and coughing, but refusing to go to his knees. 

A woman standing near the Twi’lek marched up to him to grip his chin in her hand and force him to look at her. 

“You’re brave little Imp,” she spat. “Why is he so special?”   
  


“He’s our commanding officer,” Piett managed, hoping that the fact Veers was a senior officer would at least keep him alive for a while. 

“Is he now….” she considered. “Would you die for him…..” she trailed her hand across his chest to the insignia on his left side. “...Captain?” 

“Sir… “ Ellery started and was silenced behind him.

“Yes,” Piett said without hesitating. 

And a blaster was leveled between his eyes.

He stared down the being behind it, and smiled, no doubt showing the blood in his teeth. 

“Oh I like him,” the woman purred, putting a hand on the Twi’lek’s wrist and pushing it down. “Fine, little Imp--- bring these three.”

Piett was shoved forward by the snub nose of a blaster in his lower back and a beefy Trandoshan hefted Veers over its shoulder. 

The battle was ongoing behind them, but rather than head toward their main base, the group headed back the way that Piett and his men had come. It was exceedingly difficult walking with his hands bound behind his back, not mention the new injuries that were screaming for his attention, but Piett was nothing if not stubborn, and he kept his eyes fixed on the unconscious Colonel a few yards ahead of him, slung over the alien’s back like a duffel. 

Ellery was shoved forward to his left and Piett decided to risk talking again in the vague hope that some of their forces might hear. At the very least, he wanted to know where they were going.

“Why aren’t we rejoining your friends?” he asked, looking at the Rodian closest to him.

“Oh we don’t need to go there for what we’re doing,” it replied in its strange nasal intonations. Dusk was falling on the planet, and while the hard ground was still radiating the heat of the day, Piett could tell it would get cold during the nights here. 

“No talking!” snapped another human male.

“Why not?” Piett provoked, and the Sergeant near him sighed  _ Sir! _ quietly. But Piett was determined to keep their attention and animosity fixed on himself. 

“Because we say so!” responded the man moving into Piett’s space. “And we’d have no problems in the least gagging you, Imp, so I’d shut it now.” 

Piett aquiesed for the moment and soon they were heading downhill and then making a series of turns. Piett suddenly realized that they must be headed into the canyon that they had seen earlier on the approach to the base.  _ A secret entrance then? _

But they stopped in a small clearing with scraggly bushes just at the top of a sloping path. 

“Let’s camp above ground tonight,” said the woman. “I don’t fancy heading down there in the dark, with all this going on. 

“Fine with me,” growled the Trandoshan dumping Veers onto the earth and pulling out some rope. Piett and Ellery were shoved forward as well, Ellery was recuffed near the base of one of the bushes and Piett was forced down next to the Colonel, but not recuffed to any of the bushes. The large lizard- like being swiftly bound Veers, and shoved him toward Piett. 

“You try anything, we’ll shoot him first,” he growled. Piett spat on the ground-- an ill advised move yes, but he was beyond fed up. A kick to his side--expected really---and the Rebels grouped around a fire that the Rodian had started, pulling out rations and water. They were careful not to discuss things that their captives shouldn’t hear, but when they started discussing the ways that they were going to  _ deal  _ with their captives, Piett deliberately tried to to tune them out and focused on an attempt to get Veers conscious. 

“Colonel,” he hissed. Veers lay with his head fairly close to Piett’s right leg. Moving so slowly it barely felt like he was doing anything, Piett finally was able to nudge Veers ever so slightly. He could see the blood covering the right side of Veers’ head and desperately hoped it was not as bad as it looked. 

“Max,” he tried again softly, very subtly prodding at him. “ _ Max.”  _ The Colonel let out a low moan. Piett froze and glanced at the group by the fire. They were all intent on whatever plans they were making and no one looked their way yet. He threw a look to Ellery and the Sergeant was sitting still, but watching him. 

“Veers,” Piett tried again with a nudge. The woman looked up and over at him and he glared, picturing her turning into dust with the force of his hatred. She smiled and said something to the others that caused them to laugh and glance at him. For a moment he was afraid they would come over, but apparently the time to torment the Imperials was waiting for later. 

“Maximilian!” he hissed as soon as their attention was back around the fire. 

And Veers opened his eyes. 

  
  


****

  
  


Vader swooped through the canyon in his TIE advanced. The Dark Side was potent here---an ancient evil reaching for him and he did not have time to embrace its depths as he searched for the power source that was keeping the Rebel shield generator in place. Behind him another TIE hit the edge of the canyon and went spiralling off to crush further down. The Dark Lord tamped down his frustration and reached for the power…. There. He banked sharply and swooped back through the canyon, effortlessly dodging the laser fire. He pressed the trigger firmly and the generator exploded in a bright white light. 

“The shield is down General,” he said over comms, “proceed to take the base. I want the  _ intel _ .” 

He made ready to fly back out, when his senses  _ flared. _ This planet….the Dark Side was different and ancient here, full of mystery. He resolved to return to the canyon once the main battle was dealt with. 

Vader turned and flew back toward the compound. He could see the Walker groups below him, blasting through the Rebel defenses and he proceeded to land toward the right side. It was time for him to go in personally. 

***

Veers struggled to the surface of his consciousness. His head throbbed sharply and he had absolutely no idea where he was. Outside apparently, as he realized that he was breathing in dust, his face resting on the earth. Something was familiar-- tugging at his memory.

“Maximilian.”

He hated being called that.  _ Why would they call him that? _ He opened his eyes, blinking in dim light and smelling faint woodsmoke. Voices were speaking in the direction of what he assumed to be a campfire.  _ Why…? _

“ _ Veers _ .” He was Veers. He hated how slow his mind was. He was wading through Dathomirian mud pits.  _ What had happened? _ A nudge at his head.  _ Stop. It hurts. _

“ _ Colonel. _ ” Another more insistent nudge and the spike of pain brought sudden clarity.

_ The Walker was hit. Tilting over….Then…. _

Another nudge.

“Stop,” Veers mumbled, lifting his head and getting a view of Imperial grey/green fabric immediately in front of him. 

“Veers. It’s Piett. Please look at me if you can.”

_ Why was he speaking so softly? _

Veers moved his head further and strove to sit up only to discover his arms weren’t working. 

“What….?”

“Shhh!!” Piett tried to quiet him but then more voices and footsteps and suddenly Veers was hauled upright, his head spinning with the sudden change. 

“Well, well look who’s back with us. Welcome, Colonel is it?” Veers squinted in the firelight at the Twi’lek that addressed him.

“Who’s asking?” 

A punch to his gut and Veers gasped. Behind him, outraged tones.

“You  _ bastards! _ He’s injured…!” 

And a smaller form struggled to get in front of him as Veers straightened. 

“And you have been warned, Captain,” growled the Trandoshan, gripping the Axxilan by the throat and lifting him slightly. “Your commander is now the one we will deal with.” Piett was choking for air and not getting any. “Be silent, before we make you so permanently.”

He threw the Captain backwards and he landed hard, not having his hands free to catch himself. Veers was rapidly taking stock of the situation. Captured then, though how on earth Piett had become involved….over the heads of the Rebels in front of him he could see an army commando watching him, shackled to the trunk of the brambly underbrush. Surely there were more of them?

“Rest assured Colonel, we’ll have lots of chats with you soon. Rest up tonight. And tell your men to keep in order. We certainly don’t need  _ all _ of you. Though the small one is amusing.” 

Veers glared but remained silent. He was taking in details, amount of weapons and number of enemies around them. And there. On the Rodian’s belt. That was a flare. He was shoved back down in his original position, near Piett, who was struggling to his knees before collapsing to lean against one of the mid sized boulders. Veers finally took a good look at him.

“Captain. How did you get here?”

“Long story, sir.” Piett coughed to clear his airways and wiped his bloody nose on the shoulder of his dirty uniform. “I’ll tell you back on the ship.” He shifted to fully get seated and drew up one knee, stretching the other leg before him. 

“Any thoughts yet?” Veers asked softly, keeping his eyes on the rabble by the fire. 

“There’s 12 of them sir. They...they shot all the wounded and the troopers, sir. They’re keeping us alive because we’re officers. I can’t explain why they have the Sergeant. He’s one of yours---Ellery.” 

Veers took this in. “Status of the attack?”

“My transport got shot down, so I’m not sure how much good I can be. We made our way to you and tried to get you out of your Walker after it went down. The main defensive shield was still operational then.”

“So we’re likely not too far from the conflict,” Veers mused, leaning his head back against the rock.  _ Force, it hurt. _

“Maybe 5 miles sir?”

“And what’s your status, Piett?”

“I’m all right, sir. Battered and beat up is the new normal now.” 

Veers looked at him and that statement was demonstrably true. It was more the tone, and yes, Piett was giving him a small smile. 

“You, Captain, aren’t half bad for a navy man. All right. I may have an idea.”

Piett made a little  _ go on _ nod.

“The Rodian has a flare on his belt. If we can get it and set it off, we have a good chance of being found.”

“Sir, I’m not a lock picking genius and these binders…”

“They used ropes on me, Captain.”

Piett’s eyes glinted in understanding in the flickering fire light. 

“We need a distraction in about 15 minutes…”

“Shut up Imperial!” shouted the Twi _ ’ _ lek, striding over to them. “Clearly you boys need to be separated.” And he grabbed Piett by the collar and dragged him toward the other side of their small campsite. Veers internally seethed but had to hope that Piett could come up with something given the information he had. He himself worked at smoothly and quietly sawing the ropes on the sharp rock behind him.  _ 15 minutes _ . He made eye contact with Piett again once the navy Captain had struggled to his knees across the way. 

Piett nodded. He was ready. Veers felt the ropes give way at last and he inclined his head toward Piett. 

“Hey!” the Captain called over to the motley gang of Rebels. “Don’t I know you, Rodian? I’m reasonably sure I put something just like you in jail for piracy. Figures the Rebels would recruit your kind of scum.”

And. That. Piett didn’t do half-assed measures apparently. 

The Rodian was over to him in a flash, along with a human male and the Trandoshan. The slight man looked up at them fearlessly and Veers gathered himself. 

“A pirate hunter? No wonder the Imperials needed you little human---their version of the garbage collector then.”

Piett spat on the Rodian’s boots. “Your words not mine, space trash,” he drawled in that clipped, calm tone of his. And they were on him.

_ Force, Piett, please don’t get yourself killed _ , Veers thought as he launched himself at the struggling group, all trying to get their hits in on the mouthy Imperial. He knew he only had moments. He seized the Rodian around the chest, his hand going for the flare at the being’s belt.  _ There. _ He seized it and then punched the Rodian as hard as he could in its large eye before staggering back and breaking the flare open. He pressed the button and a bright fountain of green light shot high into the air, exploding like a fire work above their heads. 

Shouts of rage greeted this development and then his body seized in a stun blast.  _ That was our best hope _ , was his last conscious thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ambria is a planet in the Star Wars universe. I did a lot of reading on it but it is very steeped in Dark Side history. I give little smidgens of that here. Just my nerdly little thoughts for you! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what you don't do? You don't leave a man behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tough day? Take some stories with Veers and Piett bromance. Grab some snacks. Lie down and read. Repeat as necessary. 
> 
> Disclaimer--I am not a doctor so I cannot give medically sound reasons for the above except personal experience. ;)

Sergeant Havell was a relatively simple man. He had joined the army because he liked to work hard, he followed orders well, and it fed his family. His two sons were grown now, and also in the army as Stormtroopers, and his wife had passed a few years back.

He had felt incredibly honored to be chosen for the Thundering Herd, and working directly under Colonel Veers was definitely the highlight of his career. 

Which was why it didn’t sit well with him when reports came in that the Colonel’s  _ Queenie _ had taken a direct hit and there was no sign of the Colonel. However, outside the Walker were numerous bodies of Stormtroopers as well as the pilot and gunner. Which meant, very likely, that the Colonel had been captured. 

He sat on a crate behind the front lines, eating a hot ration and discussing this turn of affairs with the other five members of his Walker crew. 

“Lord Vader is in there now,” said the pilot, “I hear that he might have found the lead he was lookin’ for.”

“Oh, how do you ‘hear’ that Svysyk? You in on the top command now?” said a skeptical voice. 

“I can put things together thank you. He isn’t using his powers to destroy everything in sight and choke the officers. Usually that’s a good thing.”

“But where’s the Colonel, is what I want to know?” put in Havell again, still worried. 

“Yeah, you’ve said, Sarge. And we’re worried too, but he is the toughest son of a Hutt around. ‘Iron Max’ remember? He’s gonna turn up.”

“Hmmm.” Havell wasn’t convinced.

“What was that?” asked Svksyk curiously.

“What?” someone else questioned.

“Did you see that green flash?”

“No?”

But in that moment there was a commotion near them and a group of navy officers jogged by.

“That was a flare for sure. Down at the south end of that canyon!”

Havell watched as they piled into a small land speeder. 

_ What were the Rebels up to now? _

  
  


***

  
  


Piett was aware that all the things hurt. But, while that fact was lodged in his aching brain, it was definitely overwhelmed by the absolutely foul taste in his mouth, and when he tried, he found that he couldn’t get rid of it due to the gag.

_ So they’d followed through on that threat then. Really not a massive surprise given the way he’d shot his mouth off. _

But this thought made him recall their attempt at the flare and he suddenly opened his eyes. It was still night, though he had no idea as to how much time had passed. He lay where they had left him last, though admittedly hurting a lot more, and trying hard not to throw up at the taste of the gag. They had been cruel in how tightly it was tied, and to take his mind off of it, he looked around the camp. 

Their captors were quite agitated--- arguing amongst themselves---the gist of it being that they felt they had to move on due to Veers’ flare. He looked for the Colonel and found him lying still near Ellery, his hands now behind him in binders. The good news then, was that the flare had happened--- he hadn’t imagined it. Now it was a case of finding out if anyone had seen it and would come to investigate. 

The Sergeant met his eyes and raised inquiring eyebrows at him.  _ All right? _

Piett inclined his head slightly and gave a tiny shrug of his bound arms.  _ As much as I can be.  _ The Captain nodded at Veers with a similarly questioning look. 

Ellery shook his head.  _ Don’t know. _

“All right Imps, we’re moving. Thanks to that little stunt,” the Twi’lek nudged Piett hard with his foot, and a dull flare of pain occurred in his right side, “we need to go. You--big one---you’ll carry our brave Colonel here. We’re undoing your binders--- you try anything funny and we’ll just shoot this one in the gut and leave him for the Hssis to finish off.”

_ That was  _ not _ the way he wanted to die,  _ Piett thought. He gazed back out toward the brush and realized suddenly that someone was looking back at him. Someone in dark clothing and a blaster rifle pointed at their group. Relief washed over him.  _ Imperial scouting crew. _

Then: chaos. 

Someone grabbed him around the neck--  _ and that was getting old fast _ \---and held him tightly near a reptilian body--the Trandoshan then. Blasters were firing on all sides and Piett saw two of the human Rebels go down, along with the Rodian. There was a pause, as sometimes oddly happens in battle. Ellery had Veers over his shoulder and was in the process of getting the Colonel to the safety of the Imperial force. He was looking back for Piett and the Captain locked eyes with the lieutenant leading the raid, and had a heart stopping moment of recognition. 

_ That _ lieutenant. 

And Piett just  _ knew. _

The lieutenant fired again at the remaining Rebels, then shouted, “All right boys! We got what we came for. Move out! Let’s go!” And with a final hard glance at the helpless navy Captain, he turned. 

“What? No, sir, the Captain…!” Ellery was shouting even as Piett was being dragged further away by the Rebels and he appreciated that the man was trying, but Piett knew he was on his own.

“Couldn’t get to him!” hollered the lieutenant over renewed fire. “Have to save the Colonel, let’s go!!” 

“You  _ bastard!” _ the Sergeant rejoined, and then Piett was out of hearing range. He supposed he could hope that Ellery would report what had happened. But even if they came for him it would be too late. 

_ So this is hopelessness,  _ he thought. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


Havell and his men were helping ferry the wounded back to the medical transports when a trooper came running up to him. 

“Sarge! They got the Colonel back sir!” 

Havell felt relief flood through him.

“Where are they trooper?”

“A bunch of the navy boys just came back sir. I think they’re bringing him back here to get checked.”

And certainly a few moments later as he finished pushing a grav sled into the closest transport, a small group headed to the medics near him. But there was a great deal of shouting and anger, and Havell moved toward them to find out what was going on. 

“....you utter  _ kriffing _ vac head! And you just  _ left him _ ….!” 

“Shut up now Sergeant. You weren’t in command and I was. I made a decision--we have to do that sometimes in war. It’s not pretty, but the hard choices have to be made.” 

The medics were checking on Veers, laying him on the field table. 

“You made a choice all right you heartless son of a Hutt. You just as good as murdered him!”

“What’s going on?” Havell asked, looking at the stone faced navy lieutenant who was standing in a superior sort of way with his hands on his hips. A red faced and furious fellow army Sergeant was towering over him and the other navy personnel had their hands hovering near their blasters. 

“I’ll tell you!!” the Sergeant turned to him, gesturing with a muscled arm. “These lads decided to leave a man behind that’s what! And he’s one of their own too! Wouldn’t ever see that in the army, no sir! Scum sucking…”

“I could have you arrested, Sergeant,” drawled the lieutenant. “For speaking in such a way to your superior officers.”

But Havell was feeling cold, as he recognized that damned superior tone. He knew the lieutenant from the bay incident. And he was trying to fight down his gut feelings of worry over whoever it was they had left behind. 

“Who did you leave?” he asked bluntly. 

The lieutenant turned to look at him. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business Sergeant…” recognition dawned in his eyes as well and he smiled nastily “... Havell, is it?” 

Behind them there was a bit of a scuffle and a  _ Sir! Please lie down… _ and the combatants all turned to see Veers sitting up and fending off the medics. 

“All of you shut up,” he gritted out, placing a hand to his head. “Yes, all right, give me pain killers and a stim shot then.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the table, and carefully stood. 

“Colonel, we’re glad to have you back sir,” the lieutenant saluted. 

“Are you?” Veers said coldly looking him up and down. “Where are the others?”

“Sir,” Ellery stepped into his field of vision. “I’m here sir, but they…”

“Regrettably, Colonel we were not able to retrieve the Captain. The  _ Sergeant _ here seems to feel we didn’t try and…”

“Because you didn’t you  _ Sithspawn!! _ ”

Havell watched the moment that Veers turned into a predator. 

“You weren’t  _ able _ to retrieve the Captain,” he stated in space cold tones. And Havell knew without the name, who they were talking about. 

The lieutenant stared at him defiantly, but Havell could see the fear in the man’s stance. 

“Sergeant Ellery.” Veers didn’t take his eyes off of the lieutenant in front of him.

“Sir.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“Sir, they came in and retrieved us sir. They had me carry you Colonel, and they had the upper hand. And they just  _ let _ the Rebels take the Captain. I watched them do it sir.” Ellery was trembling with wrath. 

Veers stared at the man beginning to cower in front of him. 

“Is that so, lieutenant?”

And the man broke. 

“We made a choice sir! And that little Axxilan bastard has no business…!”

CRACK! The lieutenant jerked back as Veers’ fist hit his face square on. 

Havell was treated to his Colonel utterly unleashing himself upon the hapless navy man in front of him. He rose, breathing heavily, delivered a final kick to the form on the ground and turned to Havell. 

“Sergeant.”

“Yes sir.”

“Arm yourselves and your crew. Get me a blaster rifle and armor.”

“Sir!” a medic protested. “You’re recovering from a stun blast sir and that head wound…” 

“I’m not asking,” Veers stated. “But you can be useful. Find my medic-- man by the name of Braxten. Have him stand by right here. Havell….”

“Sir!” he was interrupted by Ellery. “Permission to join you sir!” 

Veers looked at him for a moment. “Get the man a blaster, Havell.”

“Yes sir!” 

"We're getting our Captain back."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You shouldn't mess with things that you don't understand and the Rebels are going to find out the hard way.

Vader finished his sweep of the building and shut down his lightsaber. The intel collected was very promising indeed and worth the price they had paid for it. It had been high, but then he had expected no less. 

General Xaric was dead. His walker had been destroyed. Numerous troops had been injured and a surprising number of TIE losses which meant he had some training to do there. 

Now, however…… Now he could investigate that strange surge in the Dark Side he had felt in the chasm. 

Vader strode outside toward his fighter, its dark shape rounded and predatory in the light of the small moon. This planet….it was ancient and angry. He had never bothered much with it before--- too consumed as he was by grief and rage. But it held a dark history from ancient days of the Sith. Perhaps it would bear some future involvement. For now however, that Dark call was pulling him. 

“Lord Vader!” He turned as a puffing army commander reached him. “My Lord, the Emperor demands your update!” 

The Dark Lord clenched his fist. Palpatine rarely left him alone. In the early days, he had striven to be the support and mentor that he had been to  _ Anakin _ . By now however, Vader sensed that he was a threat to the older Sith--- one that must be constantly reminded as to who was supreme in their relationship. 

He entered his ship and activated the holocom, kneeling slightly awkwardly in the smaller space.

“What is thy bidding my Master?” 

“Lord Vader. How goes this recent action?”

“We were successful. I believe this intelligence will lead us to the new Rebel location.’’

“Yet I sense…uneasiness in you.”

“My Master, this planet is filled with the Dark Side.”

Sidious gazed at him and chuckled slowly. “That should not trouble a Lord of the Sith.”

“Indeed my Master, but this is ancient and unknown. I have not felt anything like it.” 

“There are tales of Ambria in ages past, it is true my friend. Do what you see fit. But do not be long. We must track down the Rebellion and remind the galaxy that no one defies us without consequence.”

“As you wish my Master.”

Vader rose and seated himself in the pilot’s seat. So then. Sidious allowed him a little leash, demonstrating his mercy as a Master. Well, he would use it. 

  
  


****

  
  


Piett thought that dawn might just be hovering on the edge of the horizon. They had been walking for several hours, always going slightly downhill, but he was fairly certain that he could see slightly better than before. 

The firefight with the Imperials had reduced the number of the little band, but five was still more than enough to keep him captive. He was indeed curious as to where they were going but more as an endpoint than any real care for where it was. His mouth was as dry as the planet around them, and he was rapidly losing the feeling in his hands behind his back. He tried clenching and unclenching his fingers, but it was getting more difficult. He had tried to ignore the numerous aches in his body -- _ kriff he hadn’t expected to get more beat up in the Imperial navy than the anti-pirate forces!--- _ but without water or treatment, it was gradually failing him. He stumbled more and more often until he finally went to his knees, causing the Twi’lek to run into him. 

“Stoopo!” It swore and the woman turned to look back at them. She swayed over and smiled viciously down at Piett.

“Not so mighty now are we Imp? Still….you’re slowing us down. Get him some water! We need him alive to see if this works.”

_ And wasn’t that an ominous statement, _ thought Piett wearily as he was grasped by the arms and dragged to lean against what appeared to be the wall of the canyon. The Twi’lek brandished a wicked knife near his face, obviously hoping for a reaction, but the Captain was too far gone to be intimidated and just gazed at him in tired hatred. The knife sliced through the gag, and pulling it out  _ hurt _ , but the relief from having it gone gave him a little more energy. He took a breath and this must have seemed threatening to the others as the woman kept her blaster trained on him while the huge Trandoshan opened a flask.

“I...can do it myself, if you uncuff me,” Piett rasped in a voice that was utterly dry. 

The woman snorted. “You don’t deserve that, Imp.” The Trandoshan grabbed his face and Piett was suddenly struggling to swallow, choking as the lizard being poured water down his throat. 

“All right, let’s go,” the Twi’lek commanded. And Piett was prodded forward once more. As the light grew stronger above them, he was able to study the canyon they were making their way into. Rough, nearly black rock loomed over both sides of their narrow path. It was different than anything volcanic or anything that Piett had ever seen. They were on a broad path on the right side of the canyon and there was a dramatic drop from the left side. Nothing was attempting to grow down here, but Piett thought faintly he could hear water trickling.  _ A river at the bottom perhaps? _

But as they progressed, Piett couldn’t shake an increasing feeling of….well….evil was really the best term. Something was not right, something ancient and awful was here, of that he was sure. He glanced surreptitiously at the others to see if they felt this as well. Certainly they had stopped chatting amongst themselves and looked more strained. 

Quite suddenly they came around a bend which opened onto a wide shelf. Dim light was just coming into the canyon from an opening in the rock far above them and shining in a sickly greenish fashion upon the shelf. In the center, a completely black tree was rooted, reaching gnarled bare branches to the walls above, not unlike a withered hand clutching for help. 

But this was not the worst feeling. In the rock wall facing the tree, Piett could see some sort of dirty yellow crystal, a crystal that -- _ pulsed.  _

“All right, let’s try this,” the woman said, licking her lips nervously. 

“I still say this hocus pocus isn’t something we should be messing with,” commented the Trandoshan.

“They have a Sith Lord. We need  _ something  _ to combat that,” the Twi’lek said. “Now let’s see if this works again.”

Piett tried to swallow in his dry throat, but he didn’t have time to contemplate this too long before he was hauled over to the tree. The woman undid the binders, but he didn’t have too much time for relief before his back was slammed against the forbidding trunk and his arms pulled behind him once more and he found himself bound to the tree facing that evil yellow glow. Standing carefully to the side, the woman pulled out her blaster and fired at the crystal. Piett started slightly, and then realized that the light inside the crystal was moving and swirling independent of any light source.

_ Sithspit.  _

  
  


***

Havell piloted the landspeeder while Ellery sat next to him to direct them back the way they had come. The dawn light was just beginning to glow in the horizon, a hopeful sign for dispelling the chill from the night. 

“There!” Ellery yelled over the wind. He could just see the path that led toward the gaping maw of the canyon. Havell brought the speeder as close as he dared to the top of the trail and powered down. 

“Did you actually see them go down there Sergeant?” Veers asked, climbing out and getting his rifle in the ready position.   
  


“Sir, it was still pretty dark sir, but I’m as sure as I can be that they were heading there.”

“You three,” Veers ordered the troopers, “You follow along up that way to the right. Let us know if you find tracks there. The rest of us will follow the trail.” 

A series of ‘yes sirs’ went around. 

Veers took point himself as the light grew stronger and they entered the black walled chasm. The path was broad and he looked over the edge to see if the bottom was visible. All he saw was darkness. 

He turned his attention back to the path and started looking carefully at the dirt in front of them as the light got stronger. No, he wasn’t imagining things. Those were fresh tracks--- and some very distinctive Trandoshan prints. He signalled to Ellery behind him and pointed down. Now that they were in the canyon he didn’t want to risk their voices carrying. Ellery took a knee to see better and then looked up and nodded firmly. 

It was unnaturally still, and the air felt closer, darker somehow. Veers couldn’t stop his mind from returning to the fact that  _ once again, _ Piett was on his own, abandoned, and left to die. He finally gave up on trying to avoid that thought. It fuelled him with rage every time his mind returned to it and he could use the adrenalin it gave him. He almost hoped that he would have a chance for hand to hand, in order to make it personal. Behind him he didn’t think he was imagining that he could feel similar anger from Ellery and Havell. 

And once they had Piett safely back, he was going to make life a  _ living hell _ for those vac heads. Veers smiled grimly to himself. 

They continued on for another 2 hours and the sun climbed high, though the shadows of the steep walls still kept the canyon cooler. They didn't stop for water, drinking silently as they moved. This was not a time for idle conversation. All of them felt the urgency. Veers had just tucked his flask back into his belt when the black walls echoed with a horrible agonized cry. 

And Veers ran. 

His head wound was forgotten, all other aches and pains gone in the surge of adrenalin that gave him wings. He could feel the pounding of the others as they sprinted behind him. 

_ Please be in time, please be in time.  _ Veers thought. And that changed somehow into  _ Not this time you bastards. Not this time.  _

They skidded around a corner, bringing their blasters to bear, and freezing at the sight before them. 

Even the remaining Rebels looked shocked at the evil yellow blast of light emanating from the rock walls  _ and straight into the Imperial Captain tied to the awful tree.  _

Veers jerked his blaster rifle up, taking aim at the source….

Death dropped from the sky like a black krayt dragon and a red blade ignited, slicing into the yellow beam and deflecting it, sizzling and roaring back to the rock and snaking out to spear all the Rebels standing with open mouths. 

“You do not know the power you have meddled with here, Rebel fools!” Vader snarled. Then he opened the black gloved hand not holding the lightsaber and  _ shoved.  _

A  _ ripple  _ of power went forth, shattering the yellow crystal and exploding every Rebel present into infinite atoms.

Veers braced himself to shield Piett from the Force wind that screamed around them as Vader held up both hands, his cape whipping like a live thing, and the planet shuddered as he brought both hands down, a thunderous echo sounding throughout the canyon. 

Silence.

  
  


***

“Piett. Firmus.  _ Force _ . I’m so sorry, I’m  _ sorry-- _ hang on, hang on,” Veers didn’t know where to touch as Havell worked on the binders holding the man. Horrific burns covered the shoulder and upper part of Piett’s right side and the Captain was making small sounds of agony that shouldn’t ever come out of a human being. 

Havell freed his hands and Ellery and Veers moved Piett slowly to the ground. Havell was pulling out the bacta spray and Veers was fumbling for the pain killers (fat lot of good those would do) in his small portable kit as Piett arched, trying to escape his pain. 

“Stop.” a deep voice ordered and all of them froze as Darth Vader moved to them. “Move aside,” he commanded and as they obeyed, he took a knee beside the injured Captain and spread a hand about a foot above his chest. 

The only sounds that broke that heavy stillness were the steady intonations of Vader’s respirator and the feeble attempts Piett was making at stifling his moans. But clearly, something was happening. Piett was getting more control, his attempts to move away slowing, while Vader’s hand trembled slightly above him. 

“You may tend him now,” the Sith Lord declared, rising as abruptly as he came. Shock made Veers bold.

“I did not know that the Sith healed, my Lord,” he said. Vader’s helmet inclined toward him for a moment.

“It is not healing. I merely drew out the Dark Side power that was forced upon him by that object. It is not meant for those who lack the Force-- or indeed any but the most powerful. But that is not your concern… General Veers.”

Veers blinked. “I….”

“General Xarick was killed in this action. I suggest you get back to marshal your troops, General. While you undertook this _mission_ yourself, rather recklessly I may add, I will authorize it. I shall inform a shuttle to rendezvous with you at the top of this canyon.”

“Ah…. Absolutely, my Lord. Thank you.” There was so much information to take in there and Veers didn’t have time right now. 

“Your medic will be ordered to join the shuttle crew.”

_ How does he know…? _

“Thank you my Lord.” 

Vader turned to stride over to the hole left in the rock face. 

Veers turned back to the small group by the tree. He was grateful for the two hulking and practical Sergeants who between them had done all they could for Piett down here. His burns were wrapped in the white field bandages they all carried, and Ellery was finishing another injection of antibiotics. 

Sergeant Havell was shrugging out of his duty jacket and wrapping the slighter form of the Captain in it when Veers heard Piett trying to speak. He knelt nearby.

“What is it, Firmus?”

“I….want...to walk.” 

Veers didn’t smile as he looked into his friend’s hazel eyes. “I can appreciate the time for stiff upper lips, Piett. This isn’t one of them. It’s our turn, Captain. You did your damndest to save us. Please let us do our job and save you.” He rested a brief hand on Piett’s uninjured shoulder. “And do everyone a favor and pass out all ready for kriff’s sake.”

Piett managed a small smile with bloodless lips. Ellery moved to lift him and Veers was amused at the  _ offended _ look that Havell shot him as he gathered the navy Captain into his own arms and stood. Piett made another little moan and dropped his head to the broad shoulder of the Sergeant, at last released to oblivion. 

“Thank the  _ Force  _ for that,” Veers breathed. “All right, let’s go. If you get tired Sergeant Havell, I’m sure that Ellery can…”

“Please don’t be offensive, General sir,” said Havell solemnly as they moved as swiftly as they dared back up the path they had come. 

Veers glanced back. Vader was standing in front of the canyon wall, studying it. He turned his head to look at Veers who saluted and moved away. Time to get off this  _ Huttsucking  _ planet.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader would rather have Death Squadron than old Dark side artifacts. Veers likes the sound of 'General'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's a pretty short chapter, I apologize. Here's why though-
> 
> My writing brain is going at 80 miles an hour, so I'm posting another one shot. Annnnnnnd---I'm polishing the next longer story and it's been a challenge, but a really fun and exciting one. I'll explain more when I publish it. 
> 
> Hope you guys are all doing well!

Vader pondered the shattered hole in front of him. Tiny shards of yellow lay scattered about and the residual feel of ancient evil was still echoing in the Force. 

That. That was….For a moment he hadn't thought he’d be strong enough.  _ How _ had non Force sensitive Rebels even found such a thing? Further, how had they known to activate it? Certainly, it could have been blind experimentation. Still….had Sidious known of its existence? What it did? For Vader was fairly certain this was one of the fabled crystals of the old Sith. One imbued with all their Dark power before they died. Not their souls, no, but the power they had accumulated. Such power could change the course of conflicts. 

His Master would have felt its destruction at his hand, Vader mused. What if he had tried to take that power for himself? The little he had drawn out of Piett had been hard enough for him to control. Was Sidious hoping that the lust for that power would have destroyed him? 

The Dark Lord made his way back to his shuttle. There was much to meditate on here. But first he must set his affairs in order on Executor. Veers was now in place. It was also just possible that he might have another piece if the Axxilan Captain survived. Death Squadron must be entirely his and not the Emperor’s when and if the time ever came for him to challenge. 

  
  


***

They were finally nearing the top. Veers was fit, but even he had been impressed at the tenacity and strength of his Sergeant, who set a swift pace and had twice fended off Ellery’s offer of help in carrying the unconscious Captain. 

Veers shot a look for the thousandth time at the top of Piett’s head, willing him to hold onto that steel stubborn will of his. He remembered their conversation in the lounge--- _ had it only been 41 hours ago? _ \---’stick it to Ozzel’ Veers had said. But that had been in response to what might be considered ‘normal’ mission parameters. 

How did one recover from being blasted by a dark Force? Vader seemed to think he had removed whatever intangible elements that Veers was leery of. Still….

At last they crested the top of the canyon and Veers was almost blinded by the late afternoon sun, but squinting, he could see the dark shape of a shuttle waiting for them, along with the rest of the squad and,  _ thank the Force _ , Braxten. 

The medic trotted out to meet them.

“Sir! So very good to see you sir. I had Lord Vader himself request me, Colonel, I…”

“Another time Braxten, as you can see, you have a lot on your hands.”

Braxten’s face was grave as he scanned Piett. “Yes. All right, into the shuttle. Vader ordered it clear of everyone but me and the pilots. What did you  _ do _ …? Sorry, right another time,” the young medic was babbling as they all entered. 

“All right, I need lots of room. This isn’t a medical shuttle-- it was the closest one available. Sergeants both, I need you to pile all these blankets here in the middle, as thick as you can. Troopers open up my kit-- you’ll act like my nurses.”

Veers quirked an amused eyebrow at the reaction his men gave, but they pitched in. He went forward and gave the pilots the order to return to Executor then came back into the hold. Havell was setting Piett down on the pile they had created, as gently as a big man could. 

“Where do you want me?” Veers asked Braxten, feeling uncharacteristically helpless. 

“Well sir, I’ve got all the hands I need at the moment…” his medic looked up and at his face. “...but you can keep his head steady, Colonel.”

Veers settled himself on the floor and eased the Captain’s head onto his lap. 

“It’s General now apparently,” he told Braxten as the medic began the delicate work of cutting off Piett’s uniform around the burns. The shuttle was gaining speed as it prepared to leave atmosphere and the floor beneath them trembled lightly. Veers placed his hands on either side of Piett’s head. “He feels cold.” 

“Shock,” said Braxten succinctly, injecting something. “Working on it.” He was moving around at breathtaking speed. “I just need him stabilized and into a  _ kriffing _ bacta tank _yesterday_. Come on, Captain.” 

They were all quiet, moving only to obey Braxten’s orders. At last, as they met the halfway mark to the ship, he sat back on his heels. 

“Ok. Hand me those blankets on the bench there Ellery.” He covered Piett and punched home a final shot. 

“Sedative,” he said in answer to Veers’ inquiring eyes. “I don’t want him feeling anymore of this.”

“No,” Veers replied quietly, the memory of Piett’s moans etched forever in his brain.

“So. General then. Won’t you have to go back down?” 

“Yes,” Veers sighed feeling old. “But there was no way in the Nine Hells that you were keeping me from getting him here. And Braxten, don’t let those doctors bully you. Stay with him. I don’t trust many people these days.” 

Veers looked over to Sergeant Ellery who was anxiously watching the proceedings. “Sergeant I’m giving you a direct order as well. Stay with the Captain. You are his personal guard do you understand?” 

“Yes SIR!” responded Ellery, brightening at something important to do. 

They were making their final approach into one of Executor’s smaller hangar bays, but it was also closer to the main sickbays. As the ramp descended a medical team came into view waiting for them. Veers grabbed Braxten’s arm. 

“Stay. With. Him.” he ordered. 

“I will sir, they’ll have to shoot me first.” 

Veers nodded. “Thank you.”

  
  


****

Everything smelled too sweet. Also tasted too sweet. And it was so slow. Surely he could think faster than this. Right? Also it was terribly dark and that was no longer acceptable. Eyes-- use them. 

He opened his eyes to a grey dimness. Slowly a face swam into his view. Did he know them?

“Hello there, sir.” 

It was a good voice. He trusted it. It deserved a response.

“You’re a good voice.”

A soft laugh. “Thank you Captain. You’re fun on the good drugs.”

Was he? Well, good then. He smiled. 

“Go back to sleep, sir. I’ll be here.”

Perfect idea. What a brilliant voice. Sleep…..

  
  


***

Piett opened his eyes and stared at the grey ceiling. Why were Imperial ceilings grey? Actually, why were most Imperial things grey? This thought triggered something important.  _ He was seeing Imperial grey. _

He moved his head and this action caused the young man reading next to him to look up. 

“You going to remember this conversation, sir?”

“I...I think yes? Braxten right?”

“Mm, you might just remember this one if you’re getting that right off the bat.” Braxten rose and tapped on something above Piett’s head. 

“Well, that’s looking good. Steady blood pressure. Bacta’s done a great job. How’s the pain today, Captain?”

Piett paused and then actively focused on his body. Distant aches in many places but manageable.  _ Oh.  _ Well. That.

“Found your shoulder again I see,” Braxten commented watching his face. Then, carefully, “what do you remember sir?” 

Piett frowned. Clearly this was not the first time he and Braxten had talked. What did he remember?  _ Blinding light, Veers’ face. Darth Vader? World shattering pain. Little Imp. Don’t leave me….  _

He raised his eyes to Braxten who took in a sharp breath. “All right, um, yes. You remember then. Deep breaths sir, everything’s all right.” Over his shoulder,  _ Get the General. He’s awake and he remembers. _

General? Piett tried to breathe as instructed, but things were feeling heavy….

“Captain Piett.” Braxten again. “I’m going to help you sit up sir, and then you need to drink this water.”

  
Piett couldn’t trust himself to speak, but nodded and placed a hand down to help the young medic ease him into a sitting position. Well. Not the most wonderful thing he’d done, but not the worst either. He had the water handed to him, pulled himself together internally and looked up in time to see Veers hustle in. 

Piett was beyond grateful that the man didn’t hesitate, didn’t try to put on the ‘fragile patient’ demeanor. He scanned Piett’s face keenly, then squared his shoulders and came right over, shooing Braxten away with a hand as he came. 

“ _ Force _ it’s good to see your eyes open, Piett.” He smiled then nudged his friend gently. “Move over a bit, I’m going to park for a while.” 

Piett raised his eyebrows, but complied.

“All right, first things first,” said Veers, settling himself shoulder to shoulder with the Captain. “You are getting a hug that you may never tell anyone about.” and he proceeded to carefully put one arm over Piett’s shoulders. 

“This is obligatory amongst friends I’m told,” Veers informed him before releasing him. Piett smiled slightly. 

“I’ll bear that in mind.” 

“Now. Braxten and your doctors think I’m an idiot and that you are a fragile little porg, but I think I know you well enough to know that you hate coddling." 

Piett chuckled.  _ Understatement.  _

“So, I informed them that once you were awake and able to remember, that we would sit here, you and I, and we are going to talk about the facts of what happened.” Piett stiffened next to him. “No hear me out---we will have our debrief, Firmus that’s all it is, and then it will be done and we won’t speak of it again. We don’t have to get into feelings if you don’t want to, Force knows that’s not my idea of fun, but we will both be clear on the  _ facts.” _

Veers was warm against his shoulder and Piett shot him a glance, which Veers returned. 

“If we’re going to work together, Captain, I think we should establish some good post mission habits. Shall we start with this?”

Piett mulled this over and was fiercely grateful that fate had thrown him in Veers’ way, quite literally. 

“All right, Max.”

“All right then. Also, how long are you going to sit there and not notice my uniform?”

“I did,  _ General _ , but you were too busy talking.” A thought struck Piett.

“What did you mean, we’re working together?”

“Oh, right. That one’s not mine to tell you. Don’t worry. You’re released tomorrow morning. I think you’ll be informed.”

Piett rolled his eyes but couldn’t really be bothered to be truly annoyed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A son is discovered and a Captain installed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. This one is short and sweet, but I'll put up another one shot as well. The reason is that I am getting ready for the third lengthy fic--one that will follow on directly from this one. I'm excited and nervous about it, but enough blather for now. 
> 
> Thanks all you lovely people for hanging out in this AU with me! :)

Vader flicked off the holocam in his quarters, Boba Fett’s image disappearing, and rose, clenching his fists until his prosthetics creaked under the strain. 

_ Skywalker….Tatooine….Obi-Wan… _

  
  


His desk went flying into the far wall, denting it upon impact. 

_ Sidious had lied…. _

Chairs became unrecognizable fragments. 

_ Obi-Wan’s betrayal had been deeper than he thought possible…. _

Cracks formed in the viewport and the Lady’s lights flickered in alarm.

_ A son…..her son…. _

Alarmed voices as men entered the room only to be thrown back out and into the corridor wall.

_ A son who had shone brilliantly in the Force. Who flew with the same skill as his Father…. _

The Sith Lord stalked from the room, ignoring the panic and confusion around him, as he went toward his private sparring chamber. Once inside, he palmed the lock and started the battle droids. His lightsaber ignited with a  _ snaphiss _ , and he sank into the Force.

_ Sidious had lied in telling him that his wife had died right away. She had lived long enough to have their son. _

_ He could see now that he had been thus easily manipulated with nothing else but his Master and his Master’s will to live for.  _

_ And Obi-Wan….Obi-Wan had hidden the boy. On Tatooine no less. A wise move, if despicable. Vader would never want to return unless it was to obliterate the Hutts from the galaxy.  _

_ And now he was a pilot in the Rebel Alliance. Did he know anything of his heritage? _

_ Unlikely, given that his presence had been shielded from Vader for so long. He was clearly untrained.  _

_ My son…. _

_ My son a threat to the Emperor. Who would no doubt kill him if he could find him.  _

_ Who could already be searching for him while sending Vader after the Rebels... _

_ No. He must find and protect the boy. Train him in the Dark Side… _

_ But he needed Death Squadron to do that.  _

_ An unquestioning, loyal force…. _

_ Because if it was a choice between his son and Sidious…...he chose his son.  _

  
  
  


And far across the galaxy, the Force trembled, and the Emperor hissed in his throne room.

  
  
  


****

Piett shifted his shoulders again under his new duty jacket. The new bandages around his chest and shoulder were lighter but they were still not comfortable under the uniform. Still, at least he was in uniform and out of sickbay which was  _ infinitely _ preferable. On the other hand, he was on the way for a meeting with  _ Darth Vader…. _

The lift doors hissed open and he was met with panic and destruction in the corridor. Several troopers were groaning on the floor and smashed bits of furniture were scattered about outside of …. _ Lord Vader’s quarters.  _

_ Oh kriff. _

“Report!” he called to the men still standing. 

“Sir! There was a disturbance here sir and when we came to investigate, Lord Vader…”

“Is Lord Vader all right?” Piett asked.

“ _ He  _ is sir. His quarters, not so much.” 

“Where can I find Lord Vader now?”

The trooper gaped at him. 

“Sir…..you don’t want to do that right now, sir.”

“I have a meeting scheduled with the Supreme commander of the fleet. I will not be disobeying my orders. Where is he?”

The young man shook his head in disbelief. “His private training rooms sir.” The man pointed down the corridor.

“Thank you.”

Piett considered his options as he walked. On the one hand, it appeared that Lord Vader was on a murder rampage and perhaps had forgotten the meeting entirely. On the other hand, if he was expecting Piett and this was some sort of test…..

Well, he really only had one choice didn’t he? Cowardice wasn’t an option.

He reached the door to the training rooms and could faintly hear the clang of metal and hum of a lightsaber. He took a breath-- _ hopefully not the last--- _ and palmed the door panel. 

Nothing.

He palmed it again and this time, he heard the room go silent moments before he was pressed against the far wall of the corridor by an invisible force, and the doors hissed open to reveal an angry Sith Lord.

“I am not to be. Disturbed. Captain.”

Expecting to choke any minute, Piett nodded.

“Yes, my Lord. But, your quarters were destroyed and so I thought I should report here for our meeting.” 

A long pause as the Dark form studied him. Then the Force relinquished its hold on him slowly, allowing him to slide down the bulkhead and back onto his feet. 

Vader extinguished the blade. “Very well, Captain. Come in.” 

  
  


***

Piett had never been inside the Dark Lord’s training room. It was very large and he could immediately see that it was specially reinforced. Parts of heavy battle droids were scattered around and he could see the burned marks where a lightsaber had brushed the walls and… ceiling? 

He realized that he was staring when he should be focused completely on his commanding officer and brought his attention back swiftly to the looming shadow over him. 

“You, um, you wanted to see me, My Lord.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Piett started with the only thing he could think of in terms of why he was here.

“I should offer my thanks, Lord Vader…”

“We are not here for that incident, Captain, though it is...  _ gratifying _ that you survived the experience. No, we are here for other matters.”

_ Well. All right then, he might not be dead yet. _

“I have received no less than 23 commendations for your actions on the surface in our recent engagement. Numerous men seem to feel that you kept a cool head, and took command where it was most needed. General Veers was most….complimentary in noting your fortitude.”

Piett felt the heat crawling up his neck and wished he didn’t flush at every compliment he received. 

“Thank you? My Lord?”

“You have had my attention for a while, Captain. It was why I had you transferred from the Avenger.”

_ So  _ that  _ question was answered.  _

“How have you found it working under Admiral Ozzel?”

_ Unprintable frankly.  _

“It has… had its challenges, my Lord,” Piett said aloud. 

“You are a man of fairly remarkable patience, Captain Piett. You must draw upon that further if you are to continue serving with the Admiral in close capacity. And since the Captain has recently requested a transfer, I find that I have a post to fill.” 

“The Captain, My Lord?” Piett hoped Vader wouldn’t become impatient with his stupidity. 

“Yes, Piett. The Executor needs a new Captain. I have chosen you.”

Piett could really use a chair. 

“I… thank you, my Lord.”

“Of course, we also need  _ her _ approval.”

Piett’s brain hurt. 

“My Lord?”

“Lady,” said Vader looking to the ceiling, and the lights dimmed slightly. 

“As Commander of the Imperial Fleet, Lady, I have approved Captain Firmus Piett as your Captain. What say you?”

_ Something _ swept the room and then Piett found himself standing in a red, scanning light. 

“Hold still, Captain. She is considering you.” And if Piett didn’t know better, he would say that was  _ amusement _ in Vader’s tone. 

The light finished going up and down over his body and flicked off. 

“Captain Firmus Piett recognized. You have command, Captain Piett.”

_ The ship spoke to him. The SHIP….. _

“Captain, as you are realizing, the Lady is quite… special. She has had three captains before yourself and has not felt the need to speak to any of them. Until now. “

A beat. 

“It would be polite to introduce yourself, Captain.”

_ To...introduce.....? _

“I… I apologize for my manners…..Lady.” He wasn’t sure where to look and settled for the ceiling as Vader had. 

“Captain Piett at your service then.” 

“Acceptable parameters. The ship is yours Captain Piett.”

Vader was nodding as though something made sense to him. 

“My Lord,  _ how _ …?”

“Captain.” Vader held up a hand. “It is now for you to understand the Lady. I would not presume to speak for her. You must work together.”

_ All right then…. _

“Dismissed Captain. I shall expect you on the bridge in 5 hours so that we may give Admiral Ozzel the… pleasing news.” 

_ Well. That. Well…..what a Sithspit of a show that will be.  _


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers has perfectly good reasons for being on the bridge because...because...oh kriff it, he just wants to see Ozzel's face for this bit of news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, thank you so much for reading along! And here we are at the end of this particular adventure! :) I'm very happy to say that the next story is ready to roll out and since it follows directly from this, you shouldn't have too much trouble following. I'd love to have you along for another ride! :)
> 
> *Hands out wine all around for toasts

Vader walked the longest corridor in the Lady while his quarters were repaired and refurbished. 

No doubt Sidious had noted his display in the Force and he expected the reckoning for that at any moment. But there was a swell of satisfaction in his chest--the pieces that he wanted were coming into place more quickly than he had anticipated. 

The Lady’s swift approval of Captain Piett was a pleasing bonus and confirmed his choice. There was a great resilience in the slight Captain, and more, a will of durasteel that Vader had felt back on the planet. He had shown it again in approaching Vader during one of his… episodes.

Together with General Veers, Vader could start truly molding Death Squadron into the force he desired. There were no doubt many of Sidious’ spies throughout the ship, but the Lady could help them there. 

And his _son_ …..together the possibilities were giving Vader a feeling he had not had in a very long time.

Hope.

  
  


****

Veers looked up from the holo model of the new AT-ST design to see Piett approaching their group by the command boards in bay 14. He had the somewhat unseeing look of a man whose whole world has changed, and Veers hastened to meet him. He could guess at some of it, given his own brief conversation with Vader, so he grabbed his friend’s arm and steered him to one of the offices.

He shut the door behind them.

“Sit.”

Piett obeyed without protest and that said a great deal about the state of his mind right there. 

Veers made it easier for him. “I hear congratulations are in order,  _ Captain _ .” 

“You  _ knew, _ ” Piett said accusingly. 

“Well yes, I did, because I can’t actually plug my ears when Darth Vader informs me of his intentions.”

“Please just tell me he didn’t throttle my predecessor.”

“He didn’t. He really did ask for a transfer. Granted, I think Vader  _ ordered _ him to do so but still… not dead right?”

“I...Max, I  _ met _ the Lady.”

“Did you now? What do you mean  _ met _ ?” 

“As in this ship...she’s different. Special. She…spoke to me.”

“Well she has done that on occasion with Vader.”   
  


“Yes, but as he himself informed me, she has not granted that honor to anyone else. Not sure if this an exclusive club I want to be in.”

“Sounds to me like you might be  _ special _ too, Firmus.” 

Piett gave him that disbelieving look and Veers tabled the subject for another time. This Captain friend of his undervalued himself far too much, and that was going to change. 

“Anyway, does Ozzel know yet?”

Piett sighed, and removed his hat in order to run his hand through his hair. “ _ Apparently _ , Lord Vader is going to let him know when I start my shift in a few hours.” 

Veers grinned widely. “Oh I will make sure to have a reason to be up there for  _ that. _ ” 

“Veers…”

“I promise to behave. Lord Vader will be there too after all.” 

Piett rose. “I’m going to try and take a breather before I report.”

“How are all the…things?” Veers waved a hand at him. 

“Braxten says a few more days of bacta wraps and then PT.”

“Want a hand with that part? Someone you know? I’ll push you much harder.”

“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Piett asked, trying to look skeptical but unable to hide the pleased smile that was creeping over his face.   
  


“Knowing you? Yes. You hate it when the medics are too nice.”

“Max, you might just be getting to understand me a bit.”

Veers clapped him lightly on the back as they exited back into the main bay. 

“As much as I can understand someone who chose the navy.”

  
  


***

  
  


Piett exited his quarters a few hours later, a datapad in hand. There was so much more to know about this vast ship and he was only scratching the thin surface at this point. The engine room alone could house several cities on Axxila and the plasma needed to…

Piett had run into something and he looked up to see that his way was blocked by three large naval ensigns. 

_ Oh for kriff’s sake not this again, surely…. _

“Can I help you gentlemen with something? Because I need to get to the bridge…”

“You won’t be making it to your shift today,  _ sir. _ ”

Piett bit his lip as he shifted his stance. Chances were really not good here, but ….

“I’m thinking you’re going to want to step away from the Captain there, ensign.”

Sergeant Havell and his squad came around the corner to stand right behind the smaller man. The three navy men looked rather taken aback.

“This is a navy affair,  _ dirt pounder, _ move along.”

“It is indeed a navy affair,” agreed General Veers joining the group, his blaster very notable on his hip. “Since you are addressing the new Captain of the Executor and laying a hand on him is considered both mutiny and treason. And believe me when I say, that I would personally enjoy spacing you for that.”

All three ensigns looked physically ill. Clearly, Piett’s promotion was not common knowledge yet. 

“Was there anything else, Ensign?” Piett asked. 

“N…. no sir.”

“Well terrific. Sergeant Havell would you be so good as to escort these men to the brig for threatening a superior officer?” 

“A pleasure, Captain.” 

As they moved off, Piett heard, “it would be a shame if you boys had an accident with one of the AT-ATs, if you know what I’m saying. Maybe you didn’t know, but that’s _ our  _ Captain.”

Piett felt that damn flush climbing his neck again, and Veers grinned at him. 

"Kriffing straight he is. Shall we head to the bridge, sir?” 

  
  


***

The doors hissed open and the army General and navy Captain entered together. Vader was not yet present, but Ozzel was, and seeing the two people he seemed to hate the most caused his face to crumple as though he’d been hit with bantha poodoo. 

“General Veers, I do not recall requesting your presence,” Ozzel was barely civil.

“I don’t recall it either,” Veers replied calmly and Piett gave him a sideways glance. 

“Captain Piett…” was as far as Ozzel got before he was interrupted.

“Is very timely,” came deep smooth tones and Vader strode between the two officers to join Ozzel halfway down the central walkway. 

“Lord Vader, the ship is running smoothly, and we…”

The Dark Lord raised a hand.

“Yes, thank you Admiral. And I am here to inform you that it will be running even more efficiently from now on.”

Veers did his best not to lick his lips in anticipation. He would give a month’s pay for this moment. Very subtly, Piett’s elbow found his side. 

_ Behave. _

“Captain Piett is now the Captain of the Executor at my appointment.”

Ozzel looked as though an AT-AT had stepped on him. Which. Pleasing thought. 

“But… but...Captain Lysen…”

“Has been transferred.” 

The bridge was silent. Then a young lieutenant in the portside pit snapped a salute. 

“Captain on the bridge! Sir!” 

Ozzel looked like he might explode as most of the bridge followed suit and saluted Piett. 

“Thank you, as you were,” Piett rejoined mildly and Veers admired his friend’s ability to pull off unflappable calm, no matter what was happening inside. 

“Thank you Admiral, that will be all,” said Vader, effectively dismissing the man. “Captain, a moment if you please.” 

Piett shared a quick look with Veers and then moved to walk with the Dark Lord to the end of the walkway and stand looking out at the stars. Veers quirked his mouth at the sight of the slight Captain next to the towering Sith Lord. Even as he watched, both men placed their hands behind their backs. 

_ Captain on the bridge.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know if any of the physical violence is triggery. I try not to get too gory in my work, but, I'm happy to give warnings as needed for various chapters! :)


End file.
